


Two Hearts in One Home

by SilverShadow1



Series: Harry & Louis - Stockholm Syndrome [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (It's only mentioned), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), STDs, Victim Blaming, serodiscordant relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:56:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 67,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShadow1/pseuds/SilverShadow1
Summary: Five years have passed since Louis Tomlinson was sent to prison on kidnapping charges. Now, he is released and Harry will have to figure out how to live with the implications that brings.OrThe one where Louis is released from prison and Harry can't stay away.





	1. Where Are We Now?

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been years, but after recently re-reading “Hostage of Your Heart”, I had to make good on the sequel that I said could possibly happen if I ever got the motivation and inspiration. A lot has changed in the fandom, so I will not be surprised if many original readers have left, but for those who may not have left … here’s the sequel that you requested!

Five years had gone by without Harry noticing. Perhaps it was because when you’re going through the motions, time barely seems to move at all. That’s how it felt at first, at least. After he moved in with Niall and started pursuing a career in music therapy, he became devoted to helping others who could not speak for themselves, much like himself at one point, but felt less vulnerable when they expressed themselves through music.

It was as therapeutic to him as it was for his students. They would write in their daily journals — whether they were lyrics or simply a series of words to express themselves — and then they would go around and those who wished to share would, and those who felt that their words for simply for themselves, kept them as such.

At 26-years-old, he and Niall still live together. It’s the perfect arrangement — he has the company and Niall has another person to split the rent on their outrageously priced London flat. Of course, it’s more than that as well — Niall was always there for him, even when he tried his absolute hardest to push the Irish lad away. They may have gone different paths in life — Niall a football player for Man U — but there was no denying one simple fact: they were best mates and they always had each other’s backs.

Niall even had his back when his life turned upside-down three years ago. It all started when he was wrapping up one of his group therapy sessions in a local studio.

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “Alright, everyone. Lovely contributions today,” he said, with a gentle smile around the room. “I’d like everyone to journal tonight for 15 minutes. It’s an open journal, but I’d like it to reflect the predominant emotion that you’re feeling; whatever it is. No holding back — it’s for your eyes only.” _

_ He began organizing his papers as chairs scraped around him. He returned farewells to his students as they left, and spoke to a few stragglers who had a particularly difficult time that day. There were some regular students who struggled expressing their anger or pain or any other emotion that they may be feeling, but he felt a sense of pride that they were comfortable coming to him to talk about it rather than bottling it up. He knew from experience just how toxic that could be. _

_ “I know that it sounds empty, but it does get easier,” he said to the two young men standing in front of him. “It took me years before I could really write about how I was feeling beyond the surface emotions that were clear to everyone.” _

_ He had told his students about his experiences — granted, many of them were old enough to remember the events as they unfolded in real-time. One thing that he never expected his students to do was share intimate parts of themselves unless he equally shed light on his own life. Tit for tat, as it were. _

_ “I just — I get angry when I think about what he did to our family,” said the one young man. His name was Evan, and he saw a lot of hope in him. When Evan had first entered the classroom six months ago, he was completely non-verbal, but they had worked together and after sharing bits and pieces of himself, Evan began to open up to him as well. _

_ “That’s completely valid, Evan,” he said, seriously. He looked at them both; they were best mates. “You both get each other in a way that other people can’t — in a way that other people won’t take the time to do. That’s important to have; don’t overlook that. You can help each other open up in ways that other people may not be able to do.” _

_ Evan and the other boy — Peter, was his name — smiled bashfully at each other, and he resisted the urge to grin. It wasn’t a “I don’t want my friend to see me vulnerable” kind of smile. He was glad that the two of them had each other. _

_ “Alright, lads. If that’s all for today?” _

_ The two nodded hastily, flushing at the knowing smirk on their mentor’s face. _

_ “Y-Yeah. Thanks, H,” said Evan, hurrying out of the room with Peter on his tail. He snorted good-naturedly. _

_ He continued packing up his bag when he noticed a loose piece of paper fall onto the floor. Glancing at it, he swallowed thickly. _

_ The paper held the completed version of the first song that he had ever written. The song that he had written seven years ago when he was in the worst state of his existence. He held onto it, picking at words and verses throughout the years, in turn holding onto a piece of himself that he was unwilling to let go. _

_ “I should just throw it out,” he muttered to himself. “It’s never going to get any use.” _

_ Something kept him from doing that, though. Instead, he found himself walking over to the piano and sitting down. Without giving himself permission, he began playing the opening chords of the song, jumping in halfway through. _

 

**_Who’s this man that’s holding your hand_ **

**_And talking ‘bout your eyes?_ **

**_Used to sing about being free, but now he’s changed his mind_ **

**_I know they’ll be coming to find me soon_ **

**_But my Stockholm syndrome is in the room_ **

**_Yeah, I fell for you!_ **

 

_ He continued singing, unaware that he was not alone in the room. _

 

**_All my life I’ve been on my own_ **

**_I use a light to guide me home_ **

**_But now together we're alone_ **

**_And there's no other place I'd ever wanna go_ **

**_Baby, look what you’ve done_ **

**_(look what you’ve done to me)_ **

 

_ He finished the final chorus of the song and jolted out of the place he had temporarily gone to while singing it when he heard clapping from the doorway. He spun around and was greeted by an unfamiliar, but not unkind face. _

_ “Hello,” he said, uncertainly. “May I help you?” _

_ “The song you were singing … it’s good,” the bloke said, crossing his arms casually across his chest. “Better than good. I’ve never heard it before?” _

_ “That’s probably because I’ve only ever played it for one other person,” he replied, standing up and crossing the room to return to his bag. _

_ “It’s yours, then?” _

_ “Reckon so,” he said, drily. “I wrote it some years ago. Didn’t intend on anyone else hearing it.” He said the last part rather pointedly. The man had the decency to look abashed. _

_ “Right. Apologies for lingering,” he said. “It’s just … you’re relatively new here, yeah?” _

_ “S’pose. I’ve been here a little over two years.” _

_ “Well, I’ve never heard anything like your song … what was it called?” _

_ He pursed his lips, but responded anyway. The stranger had already heard it, anyway. _

_ “‘Stockholm Syndrome.’” _

_ The man didn’t miss a beat, and nodded. _

_ “‘Stockholm Syndrome.’ I’ve never heard anything like it, and I’ve been around the block quite a few times. My Dad — his name is Irving. Irving Azoff. I’m Jeffrey, by the way.” _

_ The man extended his hand, which he glanced at for a moment before taking it in his own. He almost immediately let it go before fixing Jeffrey Azoff with a calculating look. _

_ “As I was saying, Dad’s an entertainment executive. He’s also Chairman and CEO of Azoff MSG Entertainment.” _

_ “I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Azoff —” _

_ “Please, call me Jeff.” _

_ “Jeffrey,” he said, pointedly. “But what does any of this concern me for?” _

_ “I’d like for you two to meet. I think he’d be really interested in your work.” _

_ “My  _ work _?” he laughed. “I wrote one song when I was 19 and my life had gone to shit. What makes you think that your father would have any interest in meeting me?” _

_ “What makes you so sure that he wouldn’t?” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

He eventually agreed to meet Jeffrey’s father, and before he realized what was happening, he suddenly needed a lawyer because they wanted to represent him as his own recording artist, a title that he never would have imagined possessing in a million years. Niall, of course, was ecstatic when he heard.  _ “You’ll be invited to Victoria’s Secret’s Fashion Shows, mate!” “Niall, you know that I’m not into girls, right?” “Help a bloke out, H.” _ He still mocks Niall for that three years later.

To say that his life had become chaotic was an understatement. It was later that year that he released his first solo album, something that seemed ridiculous even now to say. It was self-titled because it bore more insight into his life than he had ever given anyone — other than Niall — and he still had a hard time listening to some of the songs on it.

Releasing “Stockholm Syndrome”, though … that really skyrocketed him to where he has now amassed millions of Twitter and Instagram followers. _“For what? All I do is post angsty quotes and black and white photos?”_ he had said to Niall. Anyone who followed what happened to him less than a decade ago knew what the song was about and for those who did not, well that didn’t last for long. His DMs and mentions were full of people cursing … **_him_** for what he had done to the point where he went on an indefinite social media hiatus. It wasn’t worth the grief and it certainly wasn’t worth Niall’s disapproving looks when he saw him upset from looking through the endless stream of tweets.

“They say that I shouldn’t have given him that power,” he had said to Niall. “That I shouldn’t have immortalized him in that song.”

“They don’t know shit, H,” Niall had said bluntly. “They didn’t live it — Hell, they didn’t see what you went through  _ after  _ you left. They don’t have the right to judge how you coped.”

So here they were … five years on with global recognition to manage, along with his — thankfully no longer crippling, albeit present — anxiety and mild degree of depression. He was coping, though. He supposed that is what counted — at least, so his therapist insisted to him.

That was why when he decided to break his social media silence and tweet to his fans, he had no idea that it would set the wheels in motion for what could only be described as chaos.

 

_**@Harry_Styles:** Thank you for your continued support. As you know, I’ve some time off the last few years to focus on my writing and to re-evaluate what I _

 

_**@Harry_Styles:** would like to do with my life. I’m still young and I still have a passion for music therapy, but I also am looking forward to putting out my _

 

_**@Harry_Styles:** latest work for you. I cannot give an exact date, but new music is coming shortly. All the love xx. H. _

 

He hesitated.

 

_**@Harry_Styles:** P.S. Never make eye contact while eating a banana. _

 

He was about to close his Twitter app before it crashed from notifications, when one tweet caught his eye and made him drop his phone on the carpeted floor of his flat. He stared at the phone on the ground, reading the message, listening as his heart pounded in his ears.

 

_**@Louis_Tomlinson:** Only you’d finish a big announcement with an innuendo. I can attest … it’s distracting. _


	2. How Dare You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis meet at a café. Niall isn't impressed about it.

Louis was out of prison. His Louis. No, not  _ his _ Louis. Just Louis. Louis, the one that had kidnapped him. Louis, the one that loved him when he couldn’t love himself. Louis, the one who he saw for the last time in that bloody institution that — for reasons beyond him — was still operating. Louis … who he should have expected out of prison any day now. It was a five-year sentence after all and lo and behold — it was five years later.

He was stunned when he read the message. Then he was excited. Then reality hit him and he was furious. Why would Louis tweet him? He had the audacity to  _ tweet _ him after all that they went through together? As if he were any other “famous person” — gosh, he hated that description — that he could take the piss at for his stupid jokes.

He ran a hand through his now-short hair that he was still not used to. He still wore the hair ties on his wrist from when it reached his chest. Honestly, why was he thinking about his past hair styles right now? Louis was  _ out of prison _ .

“Hey H,” said Niall, entering the flat. He saw the phone on the floor that Harry still had not picked up. “Trying to levitate it again? I told you, mate, you’re no Harry Potter.”

Harry fixed him with a blank stare and Niall looked at him worriedly.

“You good?”

Harry just turned on the news — he knew that it would be on.

“ _ This just in: Louis Tomlinson was released several days ago — _ ”

He heard Niall swear from the other side of the room. He kept his gaze fixed on the telly while Niall made his way over to the sofa to sit on its arm.

“ _ Tomlinson was responsible for the second-degree kidnapping of then 17-year-old Harry Styles, nine years ago this past May. He kept Styles hostage for two years before the latter left and returned home to his family in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire. Tomlinson was convicted two years after Styles’ return, Styles testifying before the court. No word yet on Styles’ reaction to the news of his kidnapper’s release. His latest tweet was an announcement that — _ ”

Harry turned the telly off abruptly, throwing the remote down on the couch, which caused Niall to jolt in surprise. He put his face in the palm of his hands and leaned on his knees, sighing when he felt Niall rubbing circles on his back.

“You’re OK, H. He may be out, but he’s not going to reach out to you. He wouldn’t —”

Harry picked his phone up from the ground briskly and unlocked it. He handed it to Niall, the tweet still loaded on the screen. Niall cursed again.

“That sodding son-of-a —”

“ _ Niall _ ,” Harry warned. Niall fell silent, but only momentarily.

“You can’t let him send you spiraling, H. You’ve worked too hard to get to the place you are today to backslide.”

“I have to see him,” he said, standing up. Niall’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Are you mad?”

“I’ve been told so once or twice.” Niall looked at him unimpressed. “ _ I’m _ allowed to say it.”

“You’re full of shite, and so is your idea. You are  _ not _ meeting him.”

“What are you? My goddamn mother?”

“No,” said Niall, affronted. “If I was your mother, I’d be beside myself right now.”

“Yeah? Well, as luck would have it you’re not her because this conversation wouldn’t be lasting nearly as long.”

Things were still not what they once were between himself and his mum. She still felt unsure of how to behave around him and he still had not fully forgiven her for abandoning him in that institution, and subsequently bringing their relationship struggles to the public sphere when his career had kicked off. She may have said that she wished that they could be as close as they once were, but to him, she had no right announcing their issues to a world of strangers.

“H, you have to realize that seeing him goes against every logical —”

“I’m seeing him, Ni,” he said, abruptly. “You can support my decision or you can drop it right now, but I have to confront him. Even if it’s because I need closure.”

“I thought that you got that?”

“So did I,” he said, honestly. “Then he had the balls to tweet me. It’ll never not be an open wound, no matter how many years go by.” He glanced down at the faded scars on his arms and noticed NIall’s gaze follow.

“I want to be there,” said Niall. He opened his mouth in protest. “Save the argument, Styles, you know damn well that I’m not letting you walk into that situation of your own.”

“I can ask Preston to come —” he argued, weakly.

“He’ll be coming too,” said Niall, with an air of finality in his tone. “Do you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I hear you.”

 

***

 

He DM’d Louis later that evening — thankfully they were open or else he would have to follow him and risk that media circus. He kept his message to him cold and professional — he wanted to meet him at a local café. He was good friends with the owners and knew that they would not sell him out to the tabloids or tip off any stalkers, and they could get a private room for the four of them out of sight.

Louis responded almost immediately, agreeing to the time and the place, and making his account private like he instructed. On the off chance that they are seen together, Louis would be bombarded by people trying to contact and harass him, and despite all the years having gone by, he still did not want Louis to experience the level of vitriol that he knew many of the people who follow him are capable of delivering.

It was now 3 p.m. and the three of them were waiting for Louis in the café. He kept staring at the wooden table, looking at his freshly manicured nails. His stylist would have a fit if he started biting them again. He might do with a smoke later.

It was moments later that he felt Niall tense behind him and saw Preston stand up out of the corner of his eye that he knew that Louis had entered the room. He had not looked at him since the day that they said goodbye in the institution; a place that he cared to forget if at all possible. He avoided news articles about him as much as possible, and eventually the media grew tired of the story, and he didn’t need to put in the effort anymore. It wasn’t that he was bitter about Louis, but it wasn’t until recent events that he realized how much was left unsaid between them, mostly because when they last saw each other, he was hardly speaking.

“H,” he heard Niall mutter from beside him. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, standing up and letting his chair scrape behind him as he did. Finally, he looked up and made direct eye contact with the boy — now, man — who had taken so much away from him, while simultaneously giving him more than he could have imagined.

Louis had not changed — not really. He was older, 28 now, if he remembered correctly, and he knew that he did. Unlike when he last saw Louis when the lad was 21, he now had a mustache and beard. Scruff; it looked good on him. His hair was also styled differently. He had begun wearing it in a quiff while they were still together, but now it was product-free and laying flat; his fringe across his forehead. He looked younger, slightly. Tired, though. His eyes had aged, though they were no less beautiful than when he last gazed into them. The same ocean blue that he had admired from the bed that he was tied to at 17, the same blue that they were from the bed that he felt tied to at 19 … to now, at 26, and still feeling as vulnerable as he did during those other memories that he had with Louis.

He cleared his throat, sitting back down again and gesturing Louis to do the same. Louis followed suit — after Preston patted him down for any sign of weaponry — and he realized that he would have to break the silence. Louis was not going to do anything that could possibly throw him off or make him feel unsettled.

_ He should’ve never tweeted you _ said the voice in his head that he quelled for years.

He ignored it and continued staring at Louis, who looked back at him with morose eyes.

“Hi, Louis,” he said, his voice softer than he had anticipated.

“Hi,” the older boy breathed. He noticed that he was fidgeting; he was nervous. The tables had turned drastically since their last encounter. “You look — different, Haz. Not bad different; really, really good. I’m glad you’re good.”

Louis said all of that really quickly, and he was taken aback by the use of the name that he had not heard in years. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that nickname, and Louis seemed to realize what he was fixating on.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t —”

“It’s fine,” he said, quickly. “Just haven’t heard it in a while, is all.”

He realized now that they were here that he had no plan on what he wanted to say to Louis. Stupid.

“When did you get out?” he settled for. Louis swallowed.

“About two weeks ago. All low-profile, but then one of the inmates leaked it to the press. Figures — can’t say I blame the bloke, though — had a proper field day when they got wind.”

“I’m sure,” he said, drily. “I was thinking of getting my reps a recorded loop of myself saying, ‘No comment’ every time they’re approached about it.”

Louis looked down at the table.

“I’m sorry — I didn’t want to cause you any trouble …”

“Louis, stop,” he said, seriously. He was extremely aware that Niall and Preston were next to him, practically burning a hole through Louis. He glanced at the two of them.

“Would you two knock it off?” he said, tersely. Preston nodded, though he still kept his eyes trained on Louis, but Niall looked unimpressed.

“I’m the best mate, I think I have a right to be pissed off,” he said, crossing his arms and glaring at Louis. “It’s because of him that I couldn’t get you pissed on your 18th. It’s because of him that we couldn’t laugh our asses off together at all the pathetic couples at prom. It’s because of him —”

“Niall,  _ enough _ ,” Harry hissed. He had no idea that Niall was holding onto that resentment for all these years, but he noticed Louis shaking his head.

“He’s right, Harry,” Louis said, lowly. “I took away from you all these milestones that you should’ve had with your friends. You can’t and you shouldn’t excuse that.”

“Don’t think by agreeing with me, you’ll magically get on my good side,” snapped Niall.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Harry ran a hand over his face. He shot Niall a warning look, and the latter fell silent.

“Louis,” he said, turning back to him. Time to get to the point. “Why the  _ fuck _ did you tweet me?”

“I —”

“No, it was rhetorical. Just listen to me, I need to say this,” he said, and Louis fell silent. “When you walked out that damned door in that damned hospital seven years ago, I never thought that I was going to be whole again. I never thought that I wanted to be whole, to be honest.  _ Fuck _ , you fucked me up so badly that I couldn’t even see — I didn’t want to see it, and I still don’t want to see it because you did so many things wrong, but the one thing you did perfectly was let me go before I realized that I needed to leave.”

“Then, enter Louis stage left,” he continued, laughing humorlessly. “You get out of prison and that’s how I find out? How could your first words to me in seven years be a joke; a cheap joke like I’m just some faceless, emotionless entity on the other side of a screen? I don’t know how, but you should’ve reached out — no, you should’ve left me the hell alone, is what you should’ve done.”

He wiped the tears from his eyes that he felt intensifying, and watched as Louis did the same. He hadn’t missed seeing Louis cry; it was a rare occurrence, but when Louis did, it was utterly heartbreaking to see his walls come crumbling down. He had to continue, though.

“How  _ dare _ you?” he said, barely above a whisper. “How dare you enter my life unwanted, make me fall in love with you, tell me to leave even though I should’ve done it long ago and then finally say goodbye only to re-enter when I’ve finally nearly put the pieces back together again? How is that fair, Lou?” He hadn’t used that nickname in years, and he felt his heart tugging at its use. “How could you ever think that any of that would be OK?”

“How,” he concluded, finally, “could you never tell me?” Louis looked at him confusedly. “The goddamn detective told me that you have mild schizophrenia.” He watched as Louis visibly tensed. “I thought that we shared everything with each other. Little did I know that you always had to be one step ahead of me. One step more in-the-know than the pathetic f****t who fell in love with his kidnapper.”

The tears were flowing freely down both of their cheeks now, and he watched as Louis exhaled a shuddering breath. He braced himself for what was to come.

“ _ Don’t _ call yourself that,” were the first words out of Louis’ mouth. “If anyone’s pathetic, it’s me. From the moment that I kidnapped you to right now, everything that I’ve done was done without regard for how it would affect anyone else. If that isn’t the definition of pathetic, then I don’t know what can possibly be.”

“I’m so sorry, Haz. I know that it was a shitty way to reach out, but I never even expected you to see it, let alone reply. I know that’s no excuse,” Louis said as he opened his mouth to speak. “I didn’t know what to say, though. ‘Hey, I just got out of prison for screwing your life over — want to go grab a coffee?’”

“You’re right, though,” Louis continued. “I shouldn’t have reached, out, but I saw how big you had become … and then I heard the song.” Louis closed his eyes and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. “That song … I heard it and I swear I thought that I was going around the bend again. No way could that be you on the goddamn radio singing about … singing about everything that I put you through for everyone’s ears. You were just as hypnotizing as all those years ago, and I couldn’t help myself — I had to … I had to reach out. I had to try.”

Louis swallowed. He realized that he was getting to the last part; the most important part that had haunted him since he heard it from Detective Sergeant Higgins while he was being questioned in his rocking chair all those years ago.

“I was diagnosed at a young age,” Louis said, quietly. “They — I took meds for a while, but they had horrible side effects. I’d be violently ill, I put on weight like you wouldn’t believe, the spasms … I’ll spare you the details. I didn’t have a say when I lived with my mum, but once I left … I stopped. It was stupid, it was irresponsible, but I didn’t recognize myself on them, and I thought that I was doing fine. Sure, I’d still hear the voices sometimes telling me what I feared the most, but the occasional angry outburst seemed like a small price to pay … until it was directed at the one person who I cared about more than I ever should have.”

“I’m so, so, so sorry, Harry,” Louis said. “I can never say it enough, I know that, but I never wanted to intentionally harm you, and I did it without a care. I listened to the voice telling me that it was love if I cared enough to risk it all. That it was love if I was willing to sacrifice my freedom and my family so that I could be by your side always. That isn’t love … not really.”

He felt his heart constricting.

“All those things … they may not be love,” he said, his voice shaking. “That first night. All  _ those _ nights … it was love to me.”

Louis looked at him sadly. Both men — he couldn’t believe that they were grown men — wanted desperately to touch the other, he could tell, but something kept them rooted. Maybe it was the fact that they were not alone, or maybe it was because there was still a wall between them that they couldn’t tear down no matter how much they tried. A wall of seven years of history that the other didn’t know about, not really.

“I never doubted what we had,” said Louis, “but I didn’t deserve it.” He opened his mouth to protest. “ _ Don’t _ argue with me, Haz. You know that I’m right. If anyone else were to say it, I know that you’d be in agreement.” Louis sighed. “I am sorry, though, that you found out about the diagnosis that way. If I had told you from the beginning … I don’t know how different things would be. Not necessarily a good different, though.”

Deciding that he couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He offered to the table at large, but no one took one. The others looked at him apprehensively.

“You hated smoking,” said Louis, softly.

“Shit changes,” he said, brusquely. He felt sick that he actually enjoyed Louis’ flinch.

The room was silent again, the only sound being his exhales as he stared at the table.

“I don’t regret you,” he said, finally. His words caused the entire table to look at him. “I couldn’t — it changed my life. Not in ways that I’m proud of, not even necessarily ways that I ever would have wanted, but it’s who I am. You made me who I am and maybe all that extra baggage is my lot in life, but if I’ve been able to help anyone deal with their own baggage from it, then I consider it to be worth it.”

They fell into another temporary silence before he broke it again.

“Where are you staying?” he asked. Louis looked at him in surprise.

“Southwest London. I got a cheap flat in Vauxhall.”

Harry nodded, more to himself than to Louis.

“Work?”

“Barista in Central London. Not far from Russell Square. I tried applying to a few places … they all require more detailed background checks, though, and I needed the money.”

“You mentioned your family. Do they know you’re —?”

“Free?” finished Louis. “I’m sure that they do.” That answered the unspoken question between them. “Why are you asking all of this, Harry?”

“I don’t know,” he said, honestly. “I didn’t know you then, and I still don’t really know you now. It’s really amazing when you think about it considering how much you knew about me then and how much is readily available for you to search now.”

He was rambling and stalling for extra time, but he knew that the conversation had run its course. There was no more reason for him to still be sitting here making small talk. He said what he had come to say, and now it was time to leave. Leave Louis in his past for good.

He stood up abruptly, using the available ashtray to press down his cigarette. The others stood up with him, and so did Louis gradually.

“Thanks for meeting us,” he said, noncommittally. Louis nodded.

They stared at each other for a while before he cleared his throat.

“Goodbye, Louis,” he said, hoarsely. Of course his voice would betray him.

“Goodbye, Harry.” Then Louis left, and he watched as Louis’ slim figure walked out of his life for what he was certain would be the final time.


	3. Media Frenzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's team is unimpressed. Someone gets off in the back of a café.

His representatives were not happy. That was an understatement — they were livid.

Apparently the meeting that he arranged with Louis ended up leaking to the paparazzi. When they left, there was a swarm of leeches from The Sun outside the café waiting and trying to get an exclusive. He had spun around, looking to see if Louis was stopped, but the older boy was long gone by that point. He must have slipped between the throngs, to which he was more relieved than he cared to admit. He wouldn’t wish those “reporters” on anyone.

Now, he was sat at a round-table with his team who were grilling him.

“What were you  _ thinking _ ?” asked one of the women at the table. “Have you seen the headlines? ‘ _ Rock Icon Harry Styles Ready To Return To His Captor _ .’ Do you have any idea how bad this all looks for your image?”

He was glaring at the table, picking at a hangnail on his right index finger. To hell with Lou and the conniption that she would have. He couldn’t well smoke in the office.

“You didn’t mind it when the song about him made you a shit ton of money,” he said, bitterly. His lawyer nudged him indiscreetly, but he ignored him. “What? I’m not wrong — I’m fine as long as I’m making them money, but the second that I need closure, all of a sudden I’m the company pariah. It’s time that we pull our heads out of the sand and acknowledge the truth.”

His team looked on stony-faced at him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He knew that he was right, and even though they may see him as being insolent, if he didn’t stand up for himself, then who would? His lawyer may have his best legal interests at heart, but that didn’t always align with what he knew was best for him emotionally. For fuck’s sake, they had tried to closet him when he signed on, convinced that they could spin his love for Louis as simply a captive falling for his kidnapper. He had point-blank refused to sign papers until they amended the image clause; he had no need for the money or the popularity — he was never in it for that.

“That’s it, then? You won’t be seeing him again?” said another representative.

He leveled each of them with a detached look.

“We live in a city with over 8.5 million other people. I would say that the likelihood of us seeing each other again is minimal. However, I’ll level with you and give you the answer that I know you want: I won’t go looking for him.”

His team did not look significantly reassured, but ended the meeting shortly thereafter. He stepped out of the building, lighting up as he leaned against it, and pulled out his cell phone. Opening his contacts, he clicked on the one name that he knew he could trust to have a fair eye about all the grief that was coming back up to the surface for him. After three rings, he heard a greeting from the other end.

“Hey,” he said, puffing out a breath of smoke. “Do you want to grab a coffee?”

 

***

 

“It was quite some time since you’ve called. I was starting to worry that you had forgotten the little people,” joked Perrie, with a kind smile.

“‘M sorry about that,” he said, averting his eyes from her. She reached out to grab his hand and squeeze it.

“Hey, I’m only kidding,” she said, worried. “You know that I’m always here to talk, yeah?”

He nodded, returning the squeeze. He chanced a glance at her and saw the concern in her voice mirrored on her face.

“I’m sure that you saw the call coming,” he muttered, and she gave him a lopsided smile.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t completely thrown. Still ... I hoped that he would leave you alone.”

_ Yeah, me too _ he thought. He shook his head.

“I needed to see him, Pez. Though … shite, I didn’t realize how difficult it would be. We’re completely different people than we were seven … even nine years ago. He’s out and he’s completely alone and I know that shouldn’t bother me; Christ, I felt alone after all that happened, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not even him.”

“It’s ‘cause you’ve got a kind heart, Harry,” she said, gently. He snorted.

“Yeah, and you know what happens to people with a kind heart? They get the shit kicked out of them.” Perrie’s lip twitched.

“Perhaps,” she amended, “but that doesn’t mean that you should detach yourself or throw away future opportunities because you think that you don’t deserve them.”

“I promised my team that I wouldn’t contact or go looking for him again.”

“That’s a good promise, Harry, but I only have one question.” He looked at her. “Are you going to keep it?”

He ran a hand over his face.

“Would you think that I’m crazy if I told you that I wanted to meet him again?”

To his surprise, Perrie shook her head.

“No, I wouldn’t say that you’re crazy,” she said. “I’d say that it’s risky, it’s potentially self-destructive, but that you’re also deeply attracted to a sense of home that you haven’t felt anywhere else since you left that cabin seven years ago. Is that a fair assessment?”

He hadn’t realized how true her words were until she verbalized them. She was right; so right. He may love living as Niall’s flatmate, but it never felt like home; not really. Maybe that’s because he fooled himself into thinking all this time that home was a place rather than a person.

One specific person.

“You have to do what you know to be best for you, Harry,” said Perrie. “I can’t in good conscious say, ‘Go for it!’ because I saw firsthand what he did to you, and I don’t want to see you end up in that position again.”

“But —?”

“But you’re a grown ass man, and you’ve got to make the decision for yourself. You know yourself, Harry. Trust those instincts, but don’t blind yourself to the fact that he may not have changed in the ways that you want him to have done.”

He nodded, offering her a weak smile. He still felt lost in the entire situation, but he knew that Perrie would always be in his corner, no matter what.

 

***

 

Harry found himself walking in one of the most heavily populated areas of the city, but he had done it before without drawing attention to himself. It was only when his team sent him to do fan service that he tended to run into people and those people turned into mobs. Now, they had no clue that he was doing exactly what he had promised them that he would not do at any cost.

He turned off Euston Road, and began walking down Mabledon Place. He always enjoyed taking this stroll when he came to this part of London. He would sometimes sit in the open area and watch people play tennis, or sit outside at Mabel’s Tavern. As he continued walking, he found himself on Marchmont Street, passing Judd Books and Gay’s The Word.

The Bloomsbury area felt so familiar, so when he finally arrived at Bloomsbury Coffee House on Tavistock Place, he knew it was where he would find his cerulean-eyed, once-lover.

He walked down the outside steps, his heart in his throat. As he opened the door and the bell chimed, he found himself wondering if he should just walk straight out and hop on the first bus that he saw. When he saw Louis, though, all of his prior doubts evaporated.

Louis was grabbing a quiche for a waiting customer, making light conversation with them. He wore a uniform, and his hair was styled into the familiar quiff that he had seen so many times before. He figured that it was because Louis wanted it out of his eyes for working, but he missed the softness of how Louis looked the other day. Somehow, Louis didn’t look as vulnerable now. He looked more like the Louis that he remembered from the cabin.

“Your drink will be brought to your table shortly, sir,” said Louis lightly, still not noticing his presence. He watched as Louis handed the man a wooden spoon with a number painted on it, and as the man walked through the door to the back room of the coffee house. As he continued to stare at the man behind the counter, Louis must have felt someone’s eyes on him because he looked up, freezing in his spot.

The moment was broken as quickly as it took place. Louis cleared his throat, and gave him an expectant, albeit uncertain look.

“Can I help you with something, sir?”

He felt his lip twitch slightly and moved forward to the counter, weaving between the tight tables full of customers working on their laptops, or talking with friends or lovers.

“I think that I found what I was looking for, thanks,” he said, lowly. He watched with slight satisfaction as Louis visibly swallowed.

“Er — right, well, if there’s nothing else, then I’ll have to ask —?”

“Are you serving buns today?”

He thought he could see Louis start to sweat visibly, and was stunned by the effect that he still managed to have on the boy. It was nearly a decade since they had met, and still they could not resist the other’s allure. It was remarkable, really.

“N-No, we aren’t,” said Louis, shifting in place. “Sir, please —”

“I like it when you call me that,” he smirked. He had no idea what had gotten into him when he was petrified just moments before. He supposed it was the newfound authority that he did not possess when he and Louis were together before. He no longer felt weak and without control. Now, they were in familiar territory for him and he would be damned if he did not use that to his own advantage this time around.

“Harry, please,” whispered Louis, leaning ever-so-slightly over the counter. “I can’t do this here.”

“Oh? Later then?”

He watched as Louis ran a hand over his face and looked around them anxiously. He then decided to take matters into his own hands.

“I need the lavatory,” he said, pointedly. Louis’ eyes widened in alarm. “Could you point me in the right direction?”

“I-In the back,” Louis stammered, and he nodded.

He walked briskly to the back — not so much, so to drag attention to himself, but quick enough that no one would recognize him. When he entered, he was pleased to see that it was a single stall restroom.

Almost as soon as he took in his surroundings, did the door open. He did a 180, only to see that Louis had in fact followed him back like he had hoped. He closed the door behind them and locked it before boxing Louis in against it.

“Why are you here?” Louis whispered. “I thought that was it? Our last goodbye?”

“So did I,” he breathed. “I wish I knew how to quit you.”

Louis couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Really? Pop culture references  _ now _ ?”

He grinned.

“What can I say? I’ve always been an old-school romantic.”

He didn’t give Louis a chance to respond before he closed the gap between them. His lips moved against the smaller boy’s own furiously, and he smirked into the kiss when he felt Louis responding. Lifting from Louis’ bum, he had him up against the door moaning into his mouth in no time. He emitted his own groan when Louis tugged at his hair.

“You remembered,” he gasped when they broke apart.

“There may not be as much to tug, but no one could forget that,” panted Louis.

“I have plenty to tug, thank you very much,” he said suggestively, and Louis groaned, this time out of pure disbelief.

“You’re the worst.”

“Funny, I quite remember you saying that I was the best, once upon a time.”

Louis was silent at that, and he looked at him nervously.

“What —?”

“I can’t believe you remember that — it was so long ago,” breathed Louis, his eyes shimmering. He smiled lightly.

“Hard to forget your first real time. Especially one that was so special.”

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “You were incredible Haz,” whispered Louis after he withdrew himself. After cleaning themselves off, the two of them were now laying in bed, legs and fingers entwined. _

_ “I don’t know how since you did all the work,” he said, playing with Louis’ long and delicate fingers. _

_ “It takes two to tango,” teased Louis, earning himself a slap on the chest. _

_ “You’re a cheese ball.” _

_ “Ah, but I’m your cheese ball.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

Louis closed his eyes as he peppered kisses down the expanse of his neck. He continued to grind up against Louis, feeling the other boy harden underneath his chinos. Lowering Louis to the ground, he popped the button on Louis’ trousers and dropped to his knees, Louis’ mouth falling open in surprise.

“Harry, you don’t have to —”

“I know that,” he said quickly, shimmying the boy’s pants down. “I never felt that I had to do anything with you. Anything that I did was always my choice.” Louis just shook his head.

“Allow me,” he said with a playful smirk.

In one swift motion, he was stood up and Louis was in the position that he was in previously, taking all of him in his mouth. He felt himself hit the back of Louis’ throat and watched as Louis moved back and forth, his eyes fluttering shut.

“L-Lou, I’m nearly —”

It was not much longer before it ended — for him, in Louis’ mouth, and for Louis, in his own trousers.

“Your technique is still stellar,” he smirked, looking down at Louis. Louis gave his best affronted look.

“Pardon me, but did you think that I was that out of practice?”

“No, I just thought that you were old.” Louis pinched his bare bum.

He pulled Louis up by the hand and the two of them sorted themselves out before someone else could come knocking.

“It was really good seeing you again, Haz. I mean it,” said Louis, looking up at him once they were put together again. “I didn’t think that I ever would.”

“If this is your way of saying goodbye again, I was hoping that I was being a bit more obvious than coming here for a blowie,” he said, and Louis looked at him in surprise.

“You mean —?”

“I don’t know what I mean,” he shook his head. “I do know, though, that I wasn’t lying before. I don’t know how to quit you and I don’t want to know. Could I have your number?”

“People still use that line?” laughed Louis. He smacked Louis’ arm with no real malice. “Give it here.”

He handed Louis his phone and Louis programmed his number into it for him. When he glanced at the contact, it read “LT” with a peach emoji next to it.

“Still accentuating your finest feature, I see.”

“I mean, I try.” He cackled. “Does this make me your booty call, now?”

“You know that you’re so much more than that,” he said, seriously, and Louis looked at the ground.

“I don’t know what  _ this _ is, Harry,” said Louis, honestly. “I don’t know what it can be, but I know that it can’t be good for your image.”

“To hell with my image,” he said. “Look, we’ll keep it between us for now, yeah? At least until we figure out what it is that we want.” Louis nodded. “I’ll text you tonight?”

“I’d like that,” smiled Louis, and he couldn’t help but kiss him softly. “I’ve really got to go back to work now. Wait a few moments before leaving after me.”

He watched as Louis slipped out of the bathroom, and counted to 20 before doing the same. Thankfully, the back room was nearly empty at this hour, and he walked out, giving Louis a playful smirk through the window on his way back up the stairs.

Did that really just happen?


	4. Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis have an important conversation. Things are still left unsaid.

Harry enjoyed taking the underground; it was one of his favorite parts of London. He didn’t take it as frequently as he used to because he would get stares on occasion, but when he wore a hat and some sunglasses, he was usually fine.

He and Louis texted every night since their rendezvous in the coffee house lavatory. They had not seen each other again, though, since Louis was working back-to-back shifts and he was busy with the writing and recording process of his upcoming album. Also, despite things being left good between them, there was still a degree of uncertainty. Like they were not fully aware of how much changed between them in the time that they were apart.

That was why he was now on the Victoria line southbound, taking it to Vauxhall station. Louis had texted him at around 8 p.m. that evening asking if it was too late for him to stop by his flat. His heart rate sped up against his own will at the text and he hastily replied that he would leave his place within half an hour.

“Where are you off to?” Niall had asked him as he toed his shoes on rapidly. The Irish bloke was sat on their sofa with take-away from Pizza Union and a six-pack. Harry knew that his coach would have his head if he saw all that Niall was consuming.

“Meeting Jeffrey, Ed and some of the band for drinks. Might crash at Ed’s if we get too faced.” The lie came easily and he immediately felt awful upon seeing Niall’s understanding nod.

“Have fun, mate. You deserve a night out,” Niall had replied with a cheeky grin, making him — if possible — feel even worse than before. “Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t leave much room,” he had snorted, and Niall gave him the finger. He had just laughed uneasily and closed the door behind him on his way out. He couldn’t stand looking at Niall’s easy demeanor when he knew that he was betraying his trust.

“ _ Next stop is Vauxhall station. Change here for National Rail services _ .”

He stood up quickly, exiting as soon as the doors opened. Louis’ address was not far from the station, as he had said, and he found himself practically running all the way there. When he finally arrived, he rang the buzzer that he knew connected to Louis’ flat.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me,” he replied. Moments later the door buzzed again, allowing him entry.

Once he reached Louis’ level, the door was open, but Louis was nowhere to be found.

“Lou?” he called out, standing by the entryway.

“Yeah, ‘m in the back,” came Louis’ muffled voice. “Close the door behind you, I’ll be out in a minute.”

He did as he was asked, taking in the flat simultaneously. It was roomier than he had expected, especially since Louis had only just gotten out of prison and was working all of those hours at the coffee house. He had a small living area and a nearby kitchenette. He could see the door to what was presumably Louis’ bedroom and then the bathroom, where the light was on and Louis seemed to be inside of.

He walked toward the bathroom as Louis walked out, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. He smiled before taking a sip of a glass of water in his hand.

“You good?” he asked, and Louis nodded.

“Yeah, just an upset stomach. Feeling better now that you’re here,” said Louis, and he smiled. How are you?” Louis added, putting the cup in the sink.

“‘M good,” he said, moving closer to Louis so that he could wrap his arms around the petite man’s waist. Louis melted into his touch, shaking his head slightly.

“I can’t believe that you’re taller than me now,” he grumbled. Louis pouted when he patted him on the head. “Quit it!”

“I can’t help it, you’re so tiny and cute,” he smirked, laughing when Louis made his best grouchy face. “Sorry, love, you look like an absolute kitten.” Louis sighed.

“I suppose that we all have our crosses to bear,” Louis said, dramatically. “C’mere, sit down and make yourself comfortable. It’s not much, but —”

“It’s lovely,” he said, cutting him off. Louis smiled, fondly. “I noticed some cool pubs in the surrounding area. I haven’t been here in a while.” Louis nodded.

“Yeah, there’s a real gay scene down here. I haven’t gone, but I’ve passed by late at night when I was getting off work. Think I might get myself a second job in the area so that way I’m closer and can cut down the distance traveled.”

“Can you handle that many hours?” he asked, concernedly. Louis shrugged.

“I’ll manage. It’ll be easier, though, to walk instead of biking as —”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his sockets.

“You’ve been biking from  _ here to Bloomsbury _ every day?”

“The fresh air and exercise does me good,” Louis replied. Louis looked at him sternly. “Don’t give me that look, Haz.”

“What look?” he asked, offended.

“ _ That _ look. The look that says you feel sorry for me without actually saying it. I don’t need anyone’s pity, I’m doing fine. I can promise you that.”

“Still, it’s impressive,” he acquiesced. “Your legs must be in great shape.”

Louis snorted.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, actually. It’s been too long since they were wrapped around me.” He saw something flicker in Louis’ eyes. “You OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Louis, quickly. “It’s just …” Louis trailed off.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he said, softly. Louis glanced at him before looking away again.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, quietly. “I … I think that I lured you here under false pretenses.”

“How do you mean?”

“I want to spend time with you, Haz, but I — I want to do it right this time. I want to get to know you for real before anything further happens between us. Everything was so messed up last time and I don’t know the newer you. Christ, I’m sorry that I didn’t say it before —”

“Louis, breathe,” he said, smiling. Louis exhaled a breath, staring back at him with wide eyes. “I want to do all that, too. I’ve thought a lot about it, and I realized that I don’t want to just fall into bed and make this some secret little rendezvous. I want to re-learn everything about you, and I’m fine with taking it however fast or slow that you’d like.”

He felt Louis relax next to him and he pulled him in gently. He placed a light kiss on Louis’ feathery hair. It was freshly washed and smelled of coconut extract; a delightful smell.

“Thanks, Haz,” Louis said, burrowing into him. “Would you like to stay for the evening? Sleeping that is?”

“‘Course. I can stay out here —” Louis shook his head.

“I trust you won’t jump me,” Louis snorted. “We’ve — as long as you’re OK with it, we’ve shared the same bed before. I … I miss being your big spoon as well.”

He felt his heartstrings pull at how vulnerable Louis sounded. Here was this boy, now man, who felt so uncertain about everything regarding them, and it was because he had let Louis believe that he wanted none of it ever again. He had allowed himself to believe the same.

“I miss being your little spoon,” he admitted. “Though, it’ll be like you’re jet-packing me now,” he added with a laugh.

“I’m going to get a lot of short jokes from now on, aren’t I?” Louis groaned.

“Oh, without a doubt, love.”

 

***

 

“So your family?” he said, uneasily. Louis sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you upset —”

“You’re not, it’s fine. I want to share things with you. My family,” Louis trailed off. They were now laying in Louis’ bed, both in their briefs and a T-shirt, respectively. “It’s difficult.”

He was silent, allowing Louis to continue when he was ready.

“Mum was horrified when the news broke; as any mother would be, I imagine. I hadn’t spoken to them in those two years that we were …”

“Together,” he supplied, and Louis nodded.

“I had skirted her off a number of times, saying that I was too busy with work and all that. It did a number on my little sisters, and she was livid. Said that they wanted to see their older brother and that I should be thinking of how that made them feel.”

“Once she found out what happened, she didn’t want the girls near me, which I get. Didn’t know what could happen; she realized that I wasn’t taking my medicine and didn’t know if I would get violent and lash out at them. Bloody well could have, too, I was a monster —”

“Lou,” he breathed. Louis glanced at him and without thinking twice, he entwined their pinkies. Louis’ eyes welled up with tears and he continued shakily.

“Lottie and Fizzy — they visited a few times once they were old enough. They’re 21 and 19, now. It took a while, but I started building up a relationship with them again. I haven’t seen either set of twins, though. Daisy and Phoebe, or the babies — Ernest and Doris.”

He heard the pain in Louis’ voice and held him closer. Louis let out a shuddering breath.

“Mum’s remarried a bloke named Dan. Lots and Fiz say he’s proper good to her, which she always deserved. He’s the father of the younger twins. I met him once while I was in there.”

“He visited you?” Louis nodded.

“Yeah, he came on his own. I’m not sure if he told mum or not, but he said that he wanted to introduce himself and he gave me a photo of the twins.”

“That was nice of him,” he said, softly. Louis nodded.

“Yeah, he seemed like a good bloke. I’m glad that the girls have him. They deserve a man like that in their lives.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said, seriously. “You’ll get there again.”

“Maybe. Mum still doesn’t know what to do or say around me. She’s visited once with a roast, but she left almost immediately. Could hear her distraught from down the hall.”

“And both sets of twins?”

“Lots says that mum just needs to see that I’m back on my feet again,” said Louis, dejectedly. “I know what that means, though. She wants me drugged up on those damn prescriptions again until I’m bloated like a cow and not sure whether I’m coming or going.”

“Have you taken anything?”

Louis was silent. When he felt tear stains on his shirt, he knew something was wrong.

“Lou, Lou, what’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up and bringing Louis with him. He watched in alarm as Louis’ thin frame was suddenly wracked with seemingly uncontrollable sobs. “Louis, please. Speak to me. What’s going on?”

“I — I can’t,” Louis sobbed, getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom. “I’m sorry, Harry, I can’t.”

Louis slammed the bathroom door and he heard the door click. He sat there stunned.

What just happened?

 

***

 

Louis did not come out of the bathroom for the rest of the night, and he was distraught. He had pleaded with Louis to come out and talk to him, but he was forced to hear Louis’ sniffles through the door. He had sat on the floor outside of the bathroom, hoping against hope that Louis would walked out and explain what was going on in his head.

Finally, at 7 a.m., Louis emerged from the bathroom and nearly tripped over his legs, which were extended. He had fallen asleep against the wall and only stirred at Louis’ squeak.

“Harry, what — did you sleep on the  _ ground _ ?”

He stood up, popping his lower back as he did. He looked at Louis anxiously.

“Louis, what’s going on? You scared me half to death …” Louis covered his face.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I shouldn’t have had you stay. I thought I could do it, but I can’t …”

“Louis, don’t —”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Louis said, brushing past him. There was an air of finality in his tone.

“Did I say something? Did I do —?”

“ _ Harry _ ,” said Louis, turning around sharply. He paused. “Please, don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Make  _ what _ more difficult?”

“I think you should leave.” His heart sank.

“Please don’t push me away, Lou. We just found each other again —”

“You’re as much better off without me now as you were the last time things fell apart. You deserve someone who can be in it with you for the long-haul. Not someone who’s damaged.”

“ _ You’re not damaged _ !” he shouted, making Louis jump. “Don’t think of yourself like that. Louis, you’re the most beautiful, most radiant person that I know. I’m ready to spend every day of my life helping you see that.”

The look that Louis was giving him was one of pure fear. Then, he said something unthinkable; something that he never thought would come out of his mouth.

“I’ve already had you, Harry. I’ve already had what I’m sure most of London has had at one point or another.”

He stumbled backwards, as if he were slapped. It would probably be less painful if Louis had slapped him, because in the times that he had, it never stung as badly as these words did.

“Louis, you don’t —”

“I don’t mean that?” said Louis, harshly. “Why would I say it then? Big rockstar with the big life — you could have anyone and by the way that the tabloids speak about you, you seem to have had your fun getting around.”

“You’re — you’re trying to push me away and I won’t let you do it, Louis. You can’t honestly believe those rags …”

“Why not?” ranted Louis. “You were begging for it the second I laid my hands on you nine years ago. You came to the place that I work to get off. You’re a — a  _ whore _ .”

He felt numb. He couldn’t even find it in himself to feel angry. He should have seen it coming; it was like everyone said. Louis hadn’t changed, he wouldn’t change like he wanted him to have done. Then why did these words sound as empty on Louis’ lips as they made him feel?

“You don’t kiss someone like that if you think those thoughts about them,” he said, softly. Louis fell silent. “You don’t lay with someone and allow yourself to be that vulnerable unless you care as much for them as they do for you. You just don’t do that, Louis, and you can try to push me away all you like, but I’m not going anywhere.”

He walked back into Louis’ bedroom and started dressing in his clothes from the night before. He could see Louis lingering in the doorway and feel his eyes on him. He finally looked up and made direct eye contact with him.

“I’m not giving up on you, Louis Tomlinson,” he said. “I don’t know what happened last night, but I know that you’ll tell me when you’re ready. In the meantime, I’ll let you get ready for work. Don’t bother ignoring my messages or sending my calls to voicemail. I’ll sit outside your apartment day in and day out if need be.”

Louis’ face was expressionless and he waited to see if he was going to speak up before he walked out of the bedroom. When he reached the entryway, he turned back.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said, bluntly. He saw Louis close his eyes. “Not really. I convinced myself that I was past it, but it just made getting by a little bit easier. That kind of love … it doesn’t go away. It wouldn’t be love to begin with if it did.”

He didn’t wait to hear if Louis would respond to that. He didn’t know if he would be able to handle it if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Instead, he closed the door behind him and walked down the stairs and hailed a taxi. The tube station would be too crowded at this hour.


	5. The Apocalypse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry discovers something huge. There's a lot of screaming.

He made good on his promise that he would not allow Louis to push him away. For weeks following the events of that first evening together, he would come and sit outside of Louis’ flat, even when the older boy wasn’t home. Thankfully, the neighbors were all elderly, so he was not bothered, and he became quite friendly with a couple in their 80’s who invited him over occasionally for biscuits and tea.

“He’ll come around, dear,” said the woman, Marlene. “He’s a quiet lad.”

“Quiet? Louis?” he said, chuckling. She nodded earnestly.

“He helps me with the shopping. Refuses to let me carry them up those flights.”

“That sounds like him,” he said. He didn’t realize the fondness that seeped into his voice until he noticed the smile on the woman’s own face. “Am I that transparent?”

“‘Fraid so, my dear,” she said, patting his hand. “Jonathan was the same way when I first met him. Proper smitten. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Jonathan gave him a wink from his chair, causing him to laugh. He enjoyed their company; it made him feel normal and at ease. Like he was their grandson, almost.

“What is it that you do, dear?”

“I’m a performer,” he replied. He laughed when she raised her eyebrows. “I’m actually working on my next album.”

“ _ Are _ you? You hear that, Jonathan? We’ve got a  _ performer _ in our home!”

“I may get up half a dozen times throughout the night to use the lavatory, Mar, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.” He let out a cackle before covering his mouth, embarrassed.

“Promise that you’ll tell us when it’s out?” Marlene continued, as though there was no interruption. “We don’t keep up with music, but our granddaughters have all those phone-eyes or whatnot.”

He smiled, kindly.

“‘Course. I’ll bring you the vinyl version once it’s out if you’d like,” he said, nodding to the record player in the corner.

“What a doll. Isn’t he a doll, Jonathan?”

“You’ll have to forgive my darling wife, Harry. She’s always wanted grandsons.”

“Oh, Jonathan, hush.”

“It’s quite all right, ma’am,” he said. “I’m honored that you keep inviting me over. Most would just walk right over my legs in the corridor.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the problem with younger people nowadays, isn’t it?” said Marlene. “No time for anything other than instant gratification. It helps when you don’t move nearly as fast as you used to, though.”

His ears perked up, though. He heard footsteps down the hall and Marlene glanced at the clock.

“That’ll be him, then,” she said with a smile. “Good luck.”

He kissed her on the cheek and shook Jonathan’s hand on the way out, closing the door behind him. He saw Louis with several white bags in his hands, digging around for his keys outside of his flat’s doorway and hurried over.

“Let me help,” he said, hurriedly. Louis’ head snapped up in alarm.

“I thought that I told you to stay away from me.”

“I guess I didn’t hear; you tend to mumble a lot. Would you let me help you?”

“I’m perfectly capable —”

“For goodness sakes, Louis. At least let me take the bags so that you can find your keys!” He reached to take them out of Louis’ hands so that they would be freed up.

“Harry, I’m not messing around. Don’t —”

In what felt like slow motion, the bags ripped in half, spilling their contents all over the ground. Louis dropped to the floor in a panic, gathering them quickly and trying to stuff the items into his pockets. He saw one of the labels quickly — Atripla. He had never heard of it before.

“Louis, it’s OK. Let me —” he reached out to touch his arm, and Louis recoiled.

“DAMN IT, HARRY, WOULD YOU  _ LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE _ ?” Louis screamed.

He backed into the wall, terrified. He had not felt this way around Louis in years. Not since … not since the last time that Louis had laid a hand on him. Louis seemed to realize the effect that his voice had on him and his face crumbled, looking utterly distraught.

“Harry, I can’t keep doing this …” said Louis, trailing off.

“Then stop being so goddamn difficult, Lou. All I want to do is understand, but you’re not making any sense to me. I know that it was a while since we had seen each other for real, but it was going to move slowly, I thought we’d —  _ Louis _ !”

He watched as Louis clutched his forehead in pain, doubling over before promptly vomiting on the ground. The contents were pale, making him believe that Louis had not eaten recently, and was only vomiting liquids. Not caring if he ended up in the splash zone, he immediately rushed to Louis’ side, holding him upright.

“Give me your damn keys, I’m not messing around, Louis.” Louis did not — or could not — argue, which terrified him even more. Louis handed the keys to him without argument and he unlocked the door, guiding him in and toward the sofa.

“Water,” croaked Louis, as he redirected his path toward the bathroom. He hurried to the sink to fill up a glass and then followed Louis to the bathroom.

He knelt down next to Louis, rubbing concentric circles on Louis’ back as he continued to dry heave. He was convulsing, not like he was having a fit, but like he was terrified, and it shook him to his core.

“P-Please, Harry, g-go,” Louis sobbed between gasps.

He felt his eyes burning. Even in the pain that Louis was feeling, he still didn’t want him to be there beside him.

“If you think that I would ever leave you in this state, you don’t know a goddamn thing about me, Louis Tomlinson. I’m going to be right here next to you no matter what.”

 

***

 

Louis was sick for some time longer before he finally fell asleep. Louis allowed him to help him change and get into bed. He refused to leave the flat, busying himself by tidying the kitchen up and simply organizing the living area. He was about to sit down on the sofa and watch some telly to get his mind off of things when he remembered the bags that he had haphazardly thrown across the room in a panic to help Louis.

He went to pick them up, glancing inside subconsciously. He was met with nearly half a dozen different prescriptions. His eyes widened at the sight — could Louis possibly be on all of these drugs for schizophrenia?

He knew that he shouldn’t snoop, but he glanced at a few other labels. Complera, Stribild and Triumeq. None of them were names that he recognized as over-the-counter drugs, or even drugs that could possibly relate to schizophrenia. He needed answers, so he opened the door quietly and stepped into the corridor, pulling out his phone.

After a few rings, he got an answer.

“Hello, my darling,” said Perrie from the other line. “What can I do for —?”

“Perrie, I’m really sorry, but this can’t be a long chat. Do you have any idea what the drugs … Atripla, Complera, Stribild and Triumeq would be used for?”

There was silence on the other end. Then a shaky breath.

“Harry, why are you asking?”

He didn’t like the sound of her voice, and felt panic bubbling in his stomach.

“Perrie, please — I need to know. I’ve never heard of them before and the labels don’t make any sense —”

“Harry, listen to me right now. What is going on?”

He let out an exasperated breath.

“I’m at Louis’. I came to try and get him to talk to me, but he was ill, and I was organizing his flat when I remembered that I saw one of the labels earlier, and I didn’t know what is was and for fuck’s sake, would you help me?”

“Harry, I …”

“Pez, you’re fucking terrifying me.  _ What is it _ ?”

Perrie let out a low whimper on the other line.

“Harry, those are multiclass combination drugs used for … for patients who are HIV positive.”

Harry’s phone fell out of his hand, landing on the floor with a thud.

 

***

 

Harry felt like the world as he knew it was crumbling around him. As he stood there in the corridor, his mind thought over every odd moment that he had shared with Louis since he reconnected with him.

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “Harry, you don’t have to —” _

_ “I know that,” he said quickly, shimmying the boy’s pants down. “I never felt that I had to do anything with you. Anything I did was always my choice.” Louis just shook his head. _

_ “Allow me,” Louis said with a playful smirk. _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ He walked toward the bathroom as Louis walked out, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. Louis smiled before taking a sip of a glass of water in his hand. _

_ “You good?” he asked, and Louis nodded. _

_ “Yeah, just an upset stomach. Feeling better now that you’re here,” said Louis. _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “Have you taken anything?” _

_ Louis was silent. When Harry felt tear stains on his shirt, he knew something was wrong. _

_ “Lou, Lou, what’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up and bringing Louis with him. He watched in alarm as Louis’ thin frame was suddenly wracked with seemingly uncontrollable sobs. “Louis, please. Speak to me. What’s going on?” _

_ “I — I can’t,” Louis sobbed, getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom. “I’m sorry, Harry, I can’t.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

He heard muffled screams from his phone and picked it up mindlessly.

“I’m here,” he said, dully.

“Harry, are you OK?” he heard the panic in Perrie’s voice. “Let me come get —”

“Absolutely not,” he said, vehemently. “Perrie, I appreciate your help, but I can’t leave Louis. Not like — not like this.”

“Harry, you need time to process everything …”

“You don’t think I realize that?” he hissed. “Perrie, please. Do not come looking for me and do not tell anyone that we had this conversation. That includes Niall.”

“But Harry —”

“Goodbye, Perrie.” He hung up the phone before she could get in another word.

He let out a long breath and walked into the flat — the flat that seemed so much bigger now that he felt like such an insignificant piece inside of it. Now that there was a much larger supporting character stealing the show.

He collapsed on the sofa, staring at the wall.

Louis was HIV positive. He read the side-effects labels on the bottles — it aligned with the symptoms that he had seen from Louis in the few encounters that they had. Louis not wanting him to suck him off … he was trying to protect him without telling him …

When did it happen? Did anyone else besides Harry — and now by extension, Perrie — know? Harry doubted it — who else would he have told? His teenage sisters? His mother who he was estranged from? Christ, Louis had said that he was damaged, and that’s what he had meant. How did it happen? Was it in prison? Did someone — no, he couldn’t go there. He wouldn’t go there unless Louis confirmed it himself and then … he didn’t know what he would do except cry for Louis the way that Louis once cried for him. Harry was the “lucky” one … they had tested him after what happened with the orderly whose name he refuses to say. He was physically fine. Louis, though … why Louis …?

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he had not realized that Louis had awoken and walked out to the sitting area with a blanket wrapped around him. Louis’ teeth were chattering violently, only stopping momentarily when he saw that he was sitting there.

“You’re still here,” Louis said. There was no malice detected in his tone, merely surprise.

He stared at him for a moment before clicking into autopilot. He stood up and began making his way toward the kitchenette.

“You need to eat,” he said, shortly. “All you threw up was water, when’s the last time that you ate something substantial?”

“I wasn’t hungry —”

“That wasn’t my question. You can’t not eat, Louis. Christ, you’re riding your bike for miles on an empty stomach, no wonder it’s not helping anything —”

“Helping any of what?” said Louis, sharply. He swallowed. “What are you talking about?”

He continued messing around, looking for ingredients to make soup.

“You don’t have nearly enough food stocked in here. I’m going to make a list and run to the store for you later.”

“Harry, answer me right —” Louis stopped short. He chanced a glance and saw that Louis’ eyes had fallen on the now visible prescription bottles. Louis’ face drained of any remaining color that he had. “I want you out.  _ Now _ .“

He threw the spoon down on the counter, not minding that it clattered into the sink.

“Listen, Louis, you have tried to throw me out, you have tried to insult my intelligence by making me believe that I mean nothing to you and you have kept huge parts of your life from me. Fuck, I probably should leave, but I’ll be damned if I give you the satisfaction.”

“You invaded my privacy,” said Louis through gritted teeth.

“You scared the fucking shit out of me!” he screamed. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t even intend to go into your bag. If you weren’t such a stubborn arse, I wouldn’t have even noticed the label earlier. Then I asked Perrie —”

“ _ Perrie _ ?” shrieked Louis. “Damn it, Harry — you can’t go telling people about it! It’s not yours to tell. Do you think that I would ever find a job if anyone knew?”

“Perrie’s a nurse, Louis. She wouldn’t —”

“How the  _ fuck _ do you know what she would and wouldn’t do? All it would take is her saying it to the wrong person and then it’s blasted on the front page of The Sun! I can see the headline now:  _ Local Leper Louis Tomlinson Gives AIDS To Rockstar Harry Styles _ .” His voice cracked on his final words.

“Do you have …?” he asked, timidly. Louis shook his head.

“I’m just positive. I don’t have AIDS …” Louis didn’t have to finish; they both knew the word that ghosted his lips that he wouldn’t allow himself to say.

“It’s not a guaranteed death sentence, I know that much,” he said, weakly. Louis just shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. My life won’t ever be the same. That much is assured. I’m going to be measuring the rest of my life by a bottle.” Louis laughed drily.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You have to admire the dramatic irony. I spent the better part of my life trying to escape taking meds and here I am — welcome to the rest of my fucking life.”

“Louis, you’re not going to —”

“ _ Die _ ? Is that where you’re going with that sentence?” sneered Louis. “I’ve got news for you, Styles, people die every day for any number of reasons that are less expected than when they have the Grim Reaper as a rent-a-shadow.” He let a breath. “Now would you just go?”

“I’m making you soup.”

“Listen to me, you little shit. I don't. Want. You here.”

“I don't care what you want. You're not getting rid of me.”

Louis made a move to pull him by the arm, but his instincts kicked in and he shoved Louis off, sending Louis tumbling to the ground with a groan of pain. He hurried over in a panic.

“Shit. Are you all right? Tell me you're all right!” he said, kneeling next to Louis.

“I'm all right!” Louis snapped, trying to stand up.

“You're not all right!”

“Then what the hell are you asking me for?” Louis shouted, finally landing on his feet.

He moved forward, towering over him. Finally, his anger at the entire situation took control and he felt it burst out of him all at once.

“So I can tell you what a motherfucking piece of shit you are for not telling me, for shutting me out, for thinking that you could handle this on your own and most of all for thinking that I would leave you! Why would you think that?” he screamed, stunning Louis to silence. “'Cause you found out that you were positive? 'Cause you're no longer perfect? Well, believe me, Mr. Tomlinson, that is the least of your imperfections and if I wanted to leave you, I've had better reasons, plenty of them, some that I’ve even taken advantage of in the past!”

“Well maybe you should again,” mumbled Louis.

“Yeah, maybe you're right. I already did that once, though, and it was the worst feeling of my life. Even though you may not feel like we have any lasting commitment to each other, I can’t say that I feel the same way.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Now get your ass back in bed, you son of a bitch, and eat some fucking chicken soup!”

Louis looked like he wanted to argue more, but didn’t dare for risk that he would unleash his anger again.

Louis moved slowly back to the bedroom and, letting out a breath, he resumed what he was doing. He made the chicken soup from scratch like his mother taught him many years ago. He used to have that soup every time that he was home sick with a bad fever or the flu. Every time she would make it and then stroke his hair as she helped him eat some of it. He never told her how much he enjoyed those moments, even when he felt at his worst.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he ladled the final product into a bowl and brought it, along with some water, to Louis’ bedroom. He placed both on the bureau and sat down on the edge of the bed. He stroked Louis’ hair gently, the same way that his mother used to for him, and watched as Louis’ eyes closed, his face contorted into a grimace.

“Are you in pain?” Louis shook his head. “What’s with the face, then?”

“I just don’t want this moment — for however long it lasts — to end.”

He felt his heart shatter at those words.

“I’m not going anywhere, Louis.”

“You can’t possibly make that promise any more than I can. Life happens, Harry. I wouldn’t expect you to stick around here knowing that I won’t always be healthy. I’m still getting used to the meds, so that’s why I’m so wonky right now, but even once I do adjust, it doesn’t mean that I won’t get ill — that those illnesses won’t land me in the hospital.”

“I swear, Louis Tomlinson, I will not abandon you because of some damned disease. I know it will take you a while to believe me, but in the meantime, will you at least humour me by eating the soup?”

Louis looked like he wanted to argue more, but he settled for nodding. Louis allowed him to spoon-feed him some soup, and listened attentively as he told him about his day in the studio. They both knew that neither of them was particularly keen on discussing the mundane aspects of sound design or writing at that moment, but it was the distraction that they needed.

The feeling of temporary normalcy that they both so desperately craved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A really intense chapter, right? For copyright purposes, I DID lift the scene where they are fighting in the kitchen partly from Queer As Folk U.S. when Justin calls Brian out for not telling the former that he has cancer. It was too perfect of a scene not to use here, also.


	6. Making Some Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis talk to Niall. Niall has some choice words.

He knew that he had to broach the topic with Louis, but he knew that it wouldn’t go over well and Louis had finally started to stop pushing him away in such frequent doses.

He spent most evenings at Louis’ flat, coming directly after work and ensuring that the boy was recuperating well and was not in danger of falling seriously ill. The mood swings — one of the significant side effects — were decreasing slightly, and he felt good about that. He hated how Louis would become angry in one moment and then completely crumble the next, thinking that he didn’t deserve his help or love. He knew that Louis was trying, and he knew that these moods were exacerbated by Louis’ mental illness, so he tried to not take it personally when Louis lashed out at him.

“Honestly, Haz, I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve you,” sighed Louis, one evening. They were on the sofa, watching  _ The Notebook _ at his request. Louis had rolled his eyes, stating that they had seen it a thousand times, but indulging him anyway.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered, watching attentively at the scene playing out on the screen. “You know that I would do anything to help you; to make sure that you’re OK.”

“We’ve got this awful history …”

“It wasn’t  _ all _ awful,” he cut off, looking down at the boy. Louis’ head was resting on his lap, and Louis looked up at him in that moment. “Was it?” he asked, more uncertainly.

Louis shook his head slowly.

“No, no it wasn’t.”

They fell into a comfortable silence again, both watching the film, but their minds were elsewhere. At least, he knew that his mind was wandering. He needed to do it now before he lost his nerve. He just had to come right out and say it.

“I want you to move in with me, Lou.”

He felt Louis tense on his lap and braced himself. He didn’t receive a response.

“Did you hear me?” he continued, despite knowing the answer.

Louis sat up off his lap, pausing the telly, and looked at him shrewdly.

“Yes, I heard you.” He didn’t like the cool tone. “I’m not some charity case, Harold.”

“I know that,” he said, offended. “Lou, we spend most of our time together as it is, it would be better if we were closer so that I’d know that you’re OK —”

“So this is for the sake of convenience?”

“You know that’s not how I meant it,” he said. “I want to know that you’re safe, Louis. I hate it when I’m at mine and I don’t know if you’re violently ill or if you’ll be able to answer the door when I come over. I go crazy at work wondering if you’re eating enough, resting enough, hydrating enough …”

“I’m a grown man, Harry,” said Louis, narrowing his eyes. Louis stood a steadying breath, in what he assumed was meant to calm himself. “You have to trust that I’m doing what’s best for me and that if there’s something wrong, I’ll call someone.”

“ _ Someone _ ,” he scoffed, standing up and walking the expanse of the living area. “Not me, though. Never me. Why is that, Louis? Why is it always that the person that loves you the most is the one that’s always pushed away?”

Louis fidgeted in his seat, averting his gaze from him.

“I don’t want to inconvenience —”

“When have I  _ ever _ indicated to you that you are an inconvenience?” Louis didn’t respond. “Please, Louis. At least think about it before you shoot it down.”

“There’s Niall,” said Louis, suddenly. “You haven’t even told him that we’ve spent time together again, have you?”

That silenced him. Niall was under the impression that he finally found someone that he was seeing most nights and then staying at their place. He let Niall believe that — he hadn’t dated for long periods of time in the last five years and he knew that Niall was glad that he had “found someone” — and still had refused to give him any more details.

“I didn’t think so,” was Louis’ simple response. He shook his head.

“You know it’s not like that, Lou. Not telling him about us gives him deniability.”

“Harry, there  _ is _ no us and there can’t be!” cried Louis. “You’re messing with fire and it’s not only your friendship that you’re putting at stake, but your career. All for something that’s volatile and will end in pain!”

“Stop talking about yourself like you’re odds, Louis!”

“Well, that’s what this is — a game of odds,” said Louis flatly. “If you can’t see that, then I can’t help you, but it is what it is.”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “I’ll prove it to you, too.” He went over to the kitchen chair and picked up his coat.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re going to mine and I’m telling Niall that I want you to move in with me. If he doesn’t like it, then I’ll find another place to live. It’s not like either of us will have trouble affording it; we only still live together because we enjoy the company.”

“You are  _ not _ dropping Niall like that,” insisted Louis, grabbing his wrist as he moved toward the door. “Not for me, not for anyone. He deserves better than that.”

“So do you,” he retorted, “and if he can’t see that, then it’s his problem.”

“How are you planning on explaining why I’m moving in so suddenly?” Louis continued.

“I was hoping — with your permission — to go for the truth.”

Louis was silent. Then he sighed.

“He already despises me, Haz, and with good reason. How do you think he’s going to feel knowing that you’re sleeping in the same bed as someone who’s a ticking timebomb?”

He shook his head.

“You’re still a person, Lou, and he’ll see that. I’ll make him see that, and once he’s around you for long enough, he’ll see it, too. I always thought that if things had worked out differently, you two would get on like a house on fire.”

“I don’t know about this, Haz …”

“Neither do I,” he said, honestly, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist. Louis leaned into his hold. “I do know, though, that I want to do this. I want to protect you, and not because I don’t think that you’re capable of caring for yourself — because I know that you can. I want you with me because it feels right; it’s  _ always _ felt right.”

He watched nervously as Louis chewed on his lip, surely deliberating on all that he said over the last 10 minutes. Finally, Louis let out a breath.

“Tomorrow,” Louis said, finally. “It’s too late now for this kind of conversation. Tomorrow, if you still want to do this, we can go and talk to Niall. But,” Louis said, before he could jump in. “There are some conditions.”

Louis waited for his nod of acknowledgment before continuing.

“Regardless of what Niall says, you’re not moving out of your flat,” Louis said, seriously. “I refuse to be the reason that there are problems — if any — between the two of you. Also, I’ll only agree to move in with you contingent on me contributing to the rent; it’s only fair since I’ll be eating and using utilities.”

“Finally,” Louis said, taking a deep breath, “I want you to talk to your mother.”

“My  _ mother _ ?” he said, scrunching his face.

“I wasn’t without telly when I was in there, you know. I saw her on once or twice, and you haven’t mentioned her once in our time reacquainting with one another. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you aren’t on good terms.”

“Louis, it’s non-negotiable. Not after what she did — putting me in that place and then not once coming to visit me.”

“I know what she did, and I know that it hurts, and it should. I, too, have experienced a mother’s belief that she’s doing the right thing only for it to backfire tremendously. If there’s one thing that I’m figuring out quickly, though, with this damned disease, it’s that life is too short to hold grudges against loved ones.”

His lips pressed into a line. He knew that Louis was right, and he knew that he should work to resolve things with his mother. She reached out to him on a number of occasions, but he ignored her calls, chalking it up to her wanting to have a connection to him now that he has money. He knew that he was being unfair, but it was easier than dredging up the past hurt.

“I’ll try talking to her,” he finally said. Louis smiled softly up at him, but to him, it was blinding — like staring into the sun. “I love you,” he said, without second-guessing himself.

Louis’ smile faltered only slightly, before replying, “Quite right, too.” He rolled his eyes. “Though I suppose, in this infinite universe, I love you, too, Harold.”

 

***

 

“Harry? Are you still awake?” whispered Louis.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, blinking his eyes a few times. He heard Louis snort.

“You’re so full of shit.” Then Louis said softly, “I’m sorry — I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine, love. Are you OK?” He rolled over so that he could face Louis. In the dark, he could vaguely make out a troubled look on the other boy’s face. He stroked Louis’ cheek and felt the boy shiver at his touch.

“Why haven’t you asked me how it happened?”

He was silent for a moment.

“I figured when you were ready, you would tell me,” he said, honestly. “I was also —”

“Scared to hear?” finished Louis for him.

“I know, it’s pretty shitty of me …”

“It’s not,” said Louis, seriously. “It’s pretty scary to think about, and — and it’s not something that I want to tell you if it will trigger you and bring back bad memories.”

He swallowed. He had figured as much.

“What happened at that place will never be forgotten, but it’s my past, Louis. I’ve come to accept it as much as I possibly can, and — and if where you’re leading is where I think, I would like to help you do the same, if possible.”

He watched as Louis ran a hand over his face.

“It’s not some grand story; not elaborate or anything,” Louis said, quietly. “It was my third year in there, and the other inmates knew what I was there for. Took the piss out of me — ‘Look at the fairy! If you’re not careful, he’ll bring you back to his bunk and tie you up!’”

“I just ignored them because I wasn’t going to cause any trouble. I wasn’t so out of control that I couldn’t see that those guys would snap my neck in a second if I so much as breathed the wrong way in their general vicinity. One day, though … they came to my bunk while I was just laying there and there were three of them.”

“I had seen them before, but they let me be. They started — they were touching me, and I was such an idiot. I told them to fuck off and go wank themselves off in the toilets. They didn’t like that and — and —” He could feel Louis start to tremor beside him, so he held him closer.

“You’re safe, Lou. You’re not there anymore,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

Louis let out a shaky breath.

“They each did it. Each of them.” He knew what Louis was referring to, and he knew why he couldn’t say it. He had trouble saying it, himself. He also knew that Louis needed to say it if he was ever going to start to deal with the reality that it happened to him.

“They raped you?” he said, softly. Louis nodded into his chest.

“I — It happened a couple of times. They never used protection … I didn’t learn that I had it until I was tested on my way out the door … It’s a wonder that it wasn’t too late.”

They laid there in silence for some time after, the sounds of their slightly erratic hearts filling up the room, along with their unsaid words. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Thank you for telling me, Lou,” he said into Louis’ hair. He kissed the top of Louis’ head. “I appreciate you sharing that with me.”

“You’re such a cheeseball,” said Louis, smiling slightly. Then on a more serious note, added, “You don’t think that I’m disgusting?”

“Shit, Louis, I would never think that. What those guys did to you is disgusting. What Grimshaw did to me was disgusting, but we’re not the ones who are disgusting. It took me a long time to understand that, but when I was able to separate the two, it set me free.”

“I hope that I can do the same eventually,” said Louis, and he was sure that his words were as much for him as they were for Louis.

“You will,” he assured him. “Until you do, I promise to keep reminding you.”

“I love you,” said Louis, leaning up to kiss him gently. He was taken aback, but not unpleasantly so. “I know that I’ve been touch-and-go, but I do. I really do.”

“I do, too,” he smiled, kissing Louis on the nose. “I always have and always will.”

 

***

 

The next day, he and Louis found themselves outside of his flat in the early afternoon. They had taken it easy that morning, especially in light of the heavy conversations that they had the night before, and finally managed to get themselves to the place that they were both avoiding on some level.

“It’s going to be OK,” he said, squeezing Louis’ hand.

“It feels like an ambush,” said Louis, visibly anxious. “I don’t feel right doing this; it’s his home, too.”

“It wouldn’t be right to do this without you. He has to see that we’re serious and that you’re not afraid of him. He’s not going to be able to respect you otherwise.”

That being said, he unlocked the door and led them into the flat. They had a few moments of silence before Niall’s Irish drawl came from down the corridor.

“Christ, H. It’s like I live here on me own, now. I don’t think that I’ve seen you in —” Niall stopped short when he realized that the two of them were not alone. His eyes narrowed, darting between him and Louis, in want of an explanation. “What’s going on here?”

“Ni, you remember, Louis.” If the situation were different, he was certain that Louis would have made a sarcastic quip. Of course Niall would remember him.

“Yeah, I’m familiar with his work,” said Niall, flatly. “What is he doing here in our flat?”

“Can we talk?”

“I was under the impression that’s what we were doing,” Niall replied, arching an eyebrow. He fixed Niall with a look. “To the sofa, then.”

The three of them moved toward the sitting area, he and Louis opting for the sofa and Niall sitting on a stray ottoman. He fixed the two of them with a pointed look.

“So …” he began. He hadn’t thought this through well enough and Niall already had an unimpressed look on his face.

“For how long?” was all that Niall asked.

“Not long after we met in the café.” Niall pursed his lips.

“Weeks, then. Glad we’re still telling each other everything.”

He squeezed Louis’ hand for reassurance.

“Niall, you know I trust you like no one else. You stood by me in spite of everything.”

“Not enough to think twice about keeping a huge part of your life a secret, though.”

“That’s why I’m here talking to you right now,” he insisted. “I don’t want to keep secrets any longer … and that includes the fact that I want Louis to move in here with us.”

Niall’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets.

“You’re actually  _ shitting _ me right now,” Niall said, incredulously. When he didn’t respond, Niall let out a noise of disbelief. “Shit, Harry, do you realize how  _ fucked _ this is?”

“Niall, please. I knew that you wouldn’t approve, but things are different now. It’s consensual between us. I sought him out, not the other way around.”

“Why should I believe for a second that he’s not going to turn around and abuse you like he did before?” questioned Niall. He was about to retort when he felt Louis’ hand on his arm.

“Because I love him,” Louis said, and both sets of eyes turned on him. “In ways that I thought I did before, but never actually comprehended until now. In ways that I couldn’t until he came back into my life willingly, even after all that I made him endure; all that I took from him.”

“Because you love him,” repeated Niall. “Why should I believe a single thing that comes out of your mouth? How do I know that this wasn’t all your idea and you’re deluding him?”

“You probably shouldn’t,” replied Louis. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never trusted me. I took away your best mate and turned his life into a living hell because I couldn’t get out of my own way to get myself help. I see that now more clearly than I ever did before.”

“Yeah?” snorted Niall. “What changed, pray tell? You saw  _ Jesus _ ? You rediscovered yourself while you were locked up?”

“I found out that I-I’m HIV Positive.”

The silence was deafening in a way that he never experienced before. You could hear a strand of hair hit the ground. He held his breath, unsure of what to say next, and Niall was no help. He looked like a gentle breeze could knock him off the ottoman.

“You’re …”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” said Louis, weakly. He squeezed Louis’ hand again. “You heard me right. It happened in there, I’m on meds now —”

“And he’s still getting used to them,” finished Harry. “Ni, if you had seen him … if you saw the side effects on those pills, you wouldn’t think twice about him needing someone to stay with so that he’s properly taken care of.”

Louis turned to look at him.

“I’m  _ not _ an invalid,” he said, severely. “If any of this is going to work between us, I need you to understand that.”

“‘M sorry, I know,” he whispered. “I just don’t want to see you hurting, is all.”

He felt Niall’s eyes on them throughout the exchange and turned to face him again.

“I know this is sudden, Ni. It’s sudden for the two of us as well,” he began, and Louis rested his hand on his arm again so that he could interject.

“I’m going to tell you what I told Harry — I have no intention of moving in here unless you give us your blessing, and I have every intention of contributing to the rent. I want to prove to you, Niall that I do genuinely care about Harry. I don’t want to overstep, though, and I know that it’s still your flat, too.”

Niall was silent, clearly sizing Louis up and calculating the situation. Finally, he exhaled.

“I just need to think it all over,” Niall said, standing up. “Can I have that?”

The two of them nodded hastily. “I’m going to go out for a bit,” Niall added to no one in particular as he walked out of the room.

He and Louis turned to one another at the same time, relaxing slightly.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Louis pointed out when he saw the smile on his face. Louis couldn’t help but smile slightly as well, though.

“As long as we’re together, none of that matters.”

 

***

 

He spent the night at his and Niall's flat at Louis' convincing.

"You haven't slept here in ages," Louis had said. "I'll be fine and besides, you can't drop something like that on Niall and run."

"I know that," he had replied, pouting. "I'll miss cuddling you, though."

"Finally, I won't wake up with drool on my head," Louis said, smirking. He feigned outrage.

"I do not drool!"

"Sure you don't, love."

He was now sitting on the sofa where he and Louis were sat earlier. He had his journal of notes on his lap and he was scribbling new song ideas in the margin. It was the same journal that he received years back in the hospital, and he would still return to old ideas and make edits.

He was so preoccupied that he didn't look up when Niall entered the room, or sat down across from him. He only jolted when Niall cleared his throat.

"Sorry, mate. Didn't realize you had come in," he said, bashfully. Niall rolled his eyes.

"You want Chinese takeaway?" He nodded. "I thought that maybe we could have a night in like old times."

He felt a twinge in his chest. He knew that Niall wasn't trying to make him feel badly, but he would be wrong to not feel guilty. He and Niall had gotten incredibly close once they started living together, and that shifted since he and Louis started seeing more of each other in secret.

"I'd like that," he replied, truthfully. "The usual?"

 

***

 

"Biscuit?" he asked Niall. The two of them were sitting on the ground, food spread on the table and all around them.

Niall shook his head, then snorted.

"There was always plenty of biscuits at your house while we were growing up," Niall said, and he chuckled.

"That's an English thing," he said, reaching for a spring roll. "There was always plenty of booze at your place."

"That's an Irish thing," Niall snickered.

"You've a big game this Saturday, don't you?" he asked, sipping his drink.

"Yeah," said Niall, looking up in surprise. "How'd you —?"

"You mentioned it last week. I marked it down on my calendar."

Niall stared at him and he dropped his gaze, focusing on the chicken lo mein. He was rubbish at chopsticks, but he knew that Niall enjoyed taking the piss out of him when he used them, so he let him have his laughs.

"You're a disgrace," said Niall, indicating to the chopsticks. "It's actually painful to watch."

"Sod off," Harry muttered. He tossed the chopsticks away and grabbed a fork. "We can't all be good with our hands."

"I'm going to let that one slide and assume that if Louis were here, he'd say differently."

He choked on his noodles, his eyes tearing up as he glared at a laughing Niall.

"Relax, mate. Thought I'd ease the tension."

"By making me gag?"

"Another one I'll let slide. Honestly, H, you're setting yourself up —"

"If it's going to be bad news, could you tell me now?" he asked, cutting Niall off.

Niall closed his mouth, taking a sip of his beer to buy what he assumed was time.

"I just want to know more," said Niall finally. "I'm still missing parts and I don't understand it all. How'd the two of you even reconnect?"

"I went to the place that he works. I don't know — I'm not sure what I was planning, but we ended up in the toilets and I was about to give him a blowie."

"Christ, did he let you?" said Niall, and he could practically feel Niall’s blood pressure rising. He shook his head.

"No, which I didn't think much of at the time. He gave me one instead. There were signs, but I never imagined …"

"So what? He was careless one night?"

He clenched his jaw at the implication.

"No," he said, tersely. "Just a lot less lucky than I was with Grimshaw."

That sobered Niall quickly. He at least looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed —"

"No, you shouldn't have."

"You two always used, though —?"

"Christ, Niall," he said, rubbing his face. "When we first were together … no, we didn't. He said he was clean and I believed him. He was then, but I was an idiotic kid and shouldn’t have taken anyone’s word for it. We haven't slept together since we met again, though. Don't look so surprised."

"I just thought —"

"That we fuck like rabbits? When we first met after that day at his work, he told me that he wanted things to move slowly so that we could do it right this time around. That night, we were talking and he had a panic attack. I think he realized that he'd have to tell me that he was Positive and it scared him because he figured that I'd leave. It took time and a lot of screaming to get through to him that I wasn't going anywhere after I found out for myself, but he's still uneasy about doing anything sexually, and I'm fine with waiting however long he needs."

"You said that you found out yourself?" He nodded.

"I was a stubborn son-of-a-bitch," he said, drily. "I kept coming back to his house and the one day he brought back new prescriptions. I was trying to help him get into his place when the bags split, and afterwards, he got violently ill. It was a side effect of the new pills that the doctors had given him. I stayed to tidy up and I ended up looking at the pills and called Perrie to ask what they were for. That's how I found out."

"He didn't even tell you," he caught Niall mumble. He crossed his arms.

"Who the fuck are you to judge telling someone something like that?" he asked. "It's not like he was shoving his dick down my throat or up my ass without telling me first."

"It's a huge secret to keep from someone, H. Even you can't deny that."

"Who's denying anything?"

"It's just that you've always been a Louis apologist —"

"I can't believe you just said that," he said, standing up. "In the time since he came clean to the police to now, he's done nothing to warrant the way that you've treated him. Even you can't deny that," he added, sardonically.

“It doesn’t magically erase everything that he's done, H! I'm never going to be OK with the two of you being together!"

He was silent. He had his answer, then.

"That's it, then," he stated. "Suppose it makes sense why you wanted to go down memory lane tonight. Try to soften the blow."

"H, you know that's not —"

"Not for nothing, Niall," he continued, "but I thought that you'd be happy that I was back with someone who I genuinely care about. You of all people know how difficult it's been to find anyone genuine these last five years. Especially anyone willing to stick around when I tell them that my team won't let me publicly date anyone."

"Harry —"

He didn't let Niall finish, though. He got up and went into his room, slamming the door behind him. The last thing that he needed to do was get any deeper into his head, so he put on his noise-canceling headphones and pulled out his lyrics journal.


	7. Reaching Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry avoids Niall. Louis tells him to contact his mother.

He wouldn’t admit aloud that he was dodging Niall at great extents, but that was exactly what he was doing. Whenever Niall entered the room, he had a “perfectly reasonable” excuse to exit promptly. Likewise, he planned his day around when he knew that Niall would not be home. Part of him acknowledged that he was being ridiculous, but he chose not to listen to that part. He didn’t have to, anyway, because Louis was doing a brilliant job of reminding him.

“You’re acting like a petty idiot,” said Louis, bluntly. He was preparing a mixed salad for dinner — he was insisting that Louis regulate his diet — and was adding some seasoning.

“If that’s your attempt at dirty talk, I have to admit that I’m severely underwhelmed.”

Louis threw a grape at him from where he was perched on the counter.

“I’m being serious,” said Louis. “I told you that I don’t want you putting me ahead of your friendship with Niall and that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“He expects me to put our friendship ahead of you!”

“Did he  _ say _ that?”

“Well, not in so many words …”

“So probably not in  _ any _ words …”

“He didn’t have to. He said that he’d never approve of us together.”

“Who would?” cried Louis. “Haz, look at it from his point-of-view. How would you feel if he were kidnapped and he invited the kidnapper to move into your flat?”

“I’d be grateful that I sprung for those noise-canceling headphones. Our walls are thin and Niall has a tough time keeping his voice down.”

Louis rolled his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he said, absentmindedly. He halted dicing the tomatoes when Louis’ hand wrapped around his wrist. He glanced at the blue-eyed boy.

“Pushing him away. It’s not like you, Haz. You fought against me pushing you away and you were right; I was only doing it because I was scared.”

“If you’re implying that I’m scared of Niall —” he said, resuming his dicing.

“Or maybe you’re scared that he’ll be right?”

He paused again, fixing Louis with a look. Louis didn’t look upset; he looked inquisitive.

“Why would I be scared of him being right?”

“Because we haven’t been  _ this _ for a long time. In fact, we were never really  _ this _ . It’s brand new for the both of us and we’re trying to figure it out as we go. The horse is out of the barn, so to speak, and we’re just trying to stay on.”

“I’ve always been a good rider,” he said, cheekily, but Louis didn’t laugh.

“Be straight with me, Haz. You  _ know _ what I mean,” added Louis, when he opened his mouth. “I’m being serious right now. No more jokes.”

He sighed, putting the knife down and leaning against the counter carefully.

“Maybe I am scared, but I’m not scared of you,” he said. “I’m not scared of committing either. Committing to you … I’ve never been more sure of something that I wanted to do. I’ve known that much since I was 17-years-old.”

“I’ve gotten good at pushing people away. I don’t like when they do it to me, but …”

“You still haven’t spoken to your mother, have you?” said Louis, gently. It was less a question than it was a statement.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “The last time we spoke, I basically cursed her out for talking to the press about our ‘strained relationship.’ She made me look like some ungrateful prick. How do you forgive someone for that on top of everything else that she did?”

“Maybe you don’t,” replied Louis, taking both of his hands in his own. “You learn to accept their mistakes and move forward, though. That is, if you love the person enough.”

He stared at Louis for a long moment before leaning in to kiss him gently. The kiss was slow and intimate, and he wished that they never had to break apart.

“How is it that you always know what to say when I’m feeling lost?” he asked Louis.

Louis grinned, throwing a grape up and then catching it in his mouth.

“It’s a gift.”

 

***

 

He was sat at the dining table engaged in a staring contest with his phone. He was half convinced that the phone was winning, but that was probably because he knew that he would eventually have to acquiesce and actually pick up and dial the number that he tried to forget for so long. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say to her. What do you say to someone that you told in no uncertain terms that you wanted them out of your life?

Finally, he took a deep breath and dialed the number that he had committed to memory. It rang several times before he heard a voice on the other end. A familiar voice that transported him back to his adolescent years without him having to leave his chair.

“Hello?”

“Hi mum,” he said, lowly. There was a sharp inhale. “How are you?”

“I’m good, darling. Are you OK?” she asked, and he detected worry in her voice. He should have prefaced with that, probably. She had no other reason to assume why he was calling other than that he was in trouble.

“I’m fine, yeah,” he said, bringing his lower lip between his middle finger and thumb. 

“Niall, too?” she asked after a few moments of silence.

“He’s all right also.”

“Sweetheart, I know when you’re lying to me. What’s going on?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re both fine, mum. Physically, you know. We’re just … not talking at the moment.”

“Not talking? You and Niall? I’ve never known  _ him _ not to talk.”

“I suppose it’s more that I don’t want to listen to him right now. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve gotten pretty good at pushing people away … even if they have decent intentions.”

“I’ve missed talking to you, sweetheart,” she said, gently.

“I have, too. Do you think that we could meet? For tea or —?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” she said. “How about coming home for the weekend?”

He felt his hands grow clammy. Too much, too quickly. Then he remembered something.

“I actually told Niall that I’d go to his match tomorrow … would you want to come?”

“I’d love to. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been to a Man U game. Do they still have the uniforms that you like?” He could practically hear her smirk on the other end.

“Christ, you’re embarrassing,” he groaned, smiling slightly when she laughed. “Meet me at the flat at 11? We’ll go from there.” He hesitated for a moment. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

He hung up the phone and placed it back on the table. After a moment of staring at the dark screen, he looked up and noticed that he was not alone in the room.

“How long were you standing there?” he said, coolly.

“You were speaking with your mum?” Niall asked, surprise in his voice.

“No, Louis and I are just into kinky shit like that,” he said, standing up. “Yes, of course, I was speaking with her.”

“You haven’t spoken in —”

“A while, yeah. I know I’m a shit son, I’ve read the tabloids.” He moved to brush past Niall, but the other lad threw his arm out as a barrier.

“You know damn well that I wasn’t going to say that,” insisted Niall. “What prompted it? I’ve tried to get you two talking for years.”

He crossed his arms.

“If you must know, one of Louis’ conditions should he move here is that I call her. I told him that I’d keep up my end of the bargain anyway.”

Niall was silent. After waiting to see if the Irish lad would say something, he scoffed.

“Yeah, he’s not all bad. Go figure.” He moved Niall’s arm and grabbing his coat and keys, left the flat without another word.

 

***

 

The following day, he woke up with his stomach in knots. He didn’t know why he was so on edge — his mother was the same person that he had known all his life, relatively speaking. Still, he had a feeling of discomfort knowing that he would be in a stadium full of people with nowhere to go if their little reunion shot straight to hell.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about uncomfortable confrontations with Niall that morning. He had come back late the night before, having gone to a pub to take the edge off, and he knew that Niall would turn in early since he had to get to the pitch at dawn. He now had the entire flat to himself to pace around as he got ready for the day and his mother’s arrival.

Since he woke up far earlier than necessary, he was ready for her a whole hour early, which he spent only half-listening to reruns of FRIENDS that he had streaing on Netflix. Finally, at five minutes to 11, he heard the buzzer ring, and he shot off of the sofa. Hurrying to the door, he held the intercom button.

“Who is it?” he said.

“It’s me, sweetheart,” came his mother’s reply.

He hit the buzzer and unlocked his door for her. When he heard footsteps approaching, he opened the door and stepped to the side so that she could enter. Closing the door behind her, the two of them sized each other up for a moment before both leaning in for a hug.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she said into his ear.

He blinked rapidly.

“You too, mum,” he said, his voice cracking as he leant down into the hug.

When they finally pulled apart, he stepped out of her line of vision so that she could survey the place. Despite her wishes, she had never actually stepped foot inside the flat.

“It’s a nice place,” she said. “Homey. Is this the same one as —?”

“Yeah, we haven’t moved,” he replied. “Wouldn’t feel right; it’s home.” He caught the sad twinkle in her eye and mentally slapped himself. “You know I don’t —”

“Don’t apologize, honey,” she said. “Our house hasn’t been home for some time.”

“Cheshire will always be my first home,” he said, delicately. “I just — it’s not the same anymore. I feel more comfortable in London than anywhere else that I’ve traveled.”

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve come into the city,” she remarked. “The last time probably was to a Man U game with your father.”

He nodded for lack of anything better to do.

“Shall we head off, then?” he said. “The game starts a little past noon. We have saved seats, though, so if you’re hungry for something more, we could stop on the way there.”

She just shook her head and smiled.

“I’m ready to go to the game.”

 

***

 

Man U was up 10-nil, Niall having scored half of the team’s goals. They were rebuilding this year and most of their games ended up being a wash, but for a change, everyone had their game faces on and were performing above expectations. Sufficed to say, the crowd loved it.

Perhaps all except for him. He was glad that he was watching the game — he hadn’t attended one in a while — and he and his mum were actually getting on pretty well without many awkward or tense moments. He didn’t take into account that someone might tip off the paparazzi that he was there, though, let alone that he was there with his mother.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, when another flash went off. “It didn’t occur to me that we’d become more interesting than the fact that they’re finally not playing out of their arses.”

“Language,” his mum said, good-naturedly. “I’m just glad I chose to wear make-up.”

He snorted.

“How’s Gemma? I haven’t had a chance to speak to her recently.”

“She’s doing well at her free-lance position,” his mum replied, sipping her glass of wine. “She and her boyfriend moved in together and adopted a rescue cat. I think that he’s going to pop the question any day now.”

“That’s great,” he said, and he meant it. He spoke on-and-off with Gemma, and now that they were both in London, they would get together periodically when they both had the time. They were on better terms than he was with his mum, but he still held minor resentment that she too had not visited him while he was in the hospital. She may have attended university then, but there is no way that she couldn’t come down for a weekend.

“How about you, then?” his mum asked, turning to him. “Are you seeing anyone?”

He looked at her and saw that she had a troubled look on her face.

“Why are you asking something that you seem to already know the answer to?”

“I read the news,” was all that she said.

“Well,  _ The Sun _ will be honored that you think of them with such a high regard.”

“I saw that he was released not too long ago. I also saw the photos of you leaving a café in Central London and the crass headline.”

“If it gives you peace-of-mind, Niall and Preston were there as well.”

“It would give me peace-of-mind if I knew that you were being careful. That you weren’t falling into old traps,” she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He had to resist the urge to flinch; the cameras would love that reaction.

“I’m not,” he said through clenched teeth. “This is not the place to discuss this topic.”

“I just want you to be careful, dear,” she said. “I’m sure that Niall has said as much —”

“Yeah, he’s said plenty.” His mum tutted.

“You might try seeing where he’s coming from —”

“You know, believe it or not you’re not the first person to tell me that,” he said, trying and having a hard time keeping his voice level. “I’ve heard it from just about everyone short of the mail carrier, but I’m sure that she’s got an opinion on the matter of my personal business, too.”

“Sweetheart —”

“I’ll be back; I’m going to use the toilets.” He stood up abruptly, apologizing promptly to the people that he cut in front of to exit their row. Without looking back, he walked in the opposite direction of the toilets and went to the smoking area, pulling out his lighter. He lit up, bringing the cigarette to his lips before exhaling. Then, he pulled out his phone.

“How’s it going?” came Louis’ angelic voice from the other end.

“Stressful,” he muttered, before blowing out smoke.

“You’re smoking, aren’t you?” he heard Louis sigh. He rolled his eyes.

“How’d you guess?”

“You could at least try to smile once or twice.”

“How do you —?”

“Tabloids, remember? You’re not exactly discreet with your feelings.”

“Really? I thought,” he glanced around quickly, “not running and screaming out the door was a good start.”

“Come on, it can’t be all that bad,” said Louis. He bit his lip.

“It’s just more of the same. The same that I’ve heard from my team and the same that I’ve heard from Niall.” Louis was silent on the other end. “You still there?”

“Do you want me to be?” asked Louis, and he knew that the question wasn’t in response to the literal meaning of his question.

“Yes, of course I bloody want you to be,” he said into the speaker. “Sorry … I’m just getting worked up.  _ Yes _ , I still want you to be here. Next to me … where we belong.”

“I reckon that you need to tell her the full story, then, Haz. Try to help her to understand.”

“The  _ full _ story? You know that the more we tell people about  _ that _ the more chance there is of it leaking to the tabloids?”

“I know,” Louis said, with what he detected as slight bitterness. “I can’t live my life in a bubble, though. Hopefully she wouldn’t spill that to the tabloids — not, I imagine, if she wants to rebuild a relationship with you —, but she might feel differently if she realizes that you’re not keeping anything from her. Or she may be even more scared — most mothers wouldn’t react favorably to their child dating someone who is Positive, and who could blame them?”

“Most mothers, mine included, don’t get a say in the matter,” he said. “I’m an adult and I can make that call.” He glanced at his watch when he heard another cheer. “I should get back; I’ve been gone long enough for her to think that I’ve fallen in the toilet.” Louis snorted.

“You’re a charmer, Harry Styles,” Louis laughed. “It’s a wonder that I’m not constantly fighting people off of you.”

“Wouldn’t matter who was there; I’d only have eyes for you. I love you,” he said, fondly.

“I love you, too.”

He ended the call and stuck his phone into his front pocket, walking back to his seat. As he did, he ordered another glass of wine for his mother, handing it to her as he sat down.

“You didn’t have to —”

“Today’s on me,” he said. “Don’t bother arguing, I got my stubborn streak from you.” She smiled into her glass slightly. “They score again?”

“Yeah, there’s no way the other team will come back now. There’s not much time left on the clock.”

She looked like she wanted to resume where they had left off in their conversation. Thankfully, at that moment Niall passed to one of his teammates, who scored right as the final buzzer went off, bringing the crowd of Man U fans to their feet. He and his mum joined them, clapping along with the others, doing their best to ignore the flashes going off in front of them.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing his mum by the wrist and starting to walk down to the pitch. “Let’s go see Niall.”

He weaved through the throngs of people, keeping a strong hold on his mother so that they would not get separated. Finally, they reached the bottom of the stands and leaned over the barrier that separates the fans from the pitch. He saw Niall patting some of his teammates on the back and saying something animatedly. After a few moments, they caught each other’s eye and Niall started making his way over to them.

“You came,” said Niall, surprised.

“Yeah, I brought someone,” he replied, stepping aside so that Niall could see his mother.

“Mrs. Twist,” said Niall, clearly taken aback. She shook her head.

“You know that I’m always Anne to you, dear,” she said. She leant over the railing to give him a hug. “Great match, today. You lads did brilliantly.”

“Thanks,” replied Niall with a grin. He knew Niall well enough, though, to tell that he was still surprised and uneasy about the entire situation.

“I was hoping to take Harry out for an early supper.  _ My _ treat,” she emphasized, and he rolled his eyes. “Would you care to join us?”

Niall’s eyes darted to meet his own. He kept his face expressionless and detached.

“I’m not sure —”

“We’d really like if you joined us.” Both his mum and Niall looked to him in surprise. “That is, if you and the rest of the team don’t already have plans.”

Niall’s gaze lingered on his for a moment, before turning back to his mum.

“Thanks for inviting me. I’d love to join.”

 

***

 

“So, big-shot footie player; you seeing anyone?” His mum asked from across the table.

Niall laughed into his beer, taking a swig.

“You know me, Anne. I’m the private type. Old-fashioned, one might say.” He snorted.

“The walls aren’t  _ that _ thick.”

“Steady Styles, I know where you live,” said Niall, good-naturedly.

They fell into silence, the only noise heard being their silverware and occasional sips. He knew that he had essentially extended the invite to Niall by not allowing him to opt out, but now he had no idea what to say. He still was not happy with him, but they couldn’t exactly get into a back-and-forth in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Finally, his mum broke the silence.

“So, when are you two boys going to make eye contact with each other?” she asked.

“Mother,” he warned.

“Don’t ‘mother’ me, Harry Edward Styles.” Niall tried to cover up his snicker by turning it into a cough, but it did not go unnoticed. “The same goes for you, Niall James Horan.” The next time, he really did cough out of pure discomfort.

“What is going on between you two, and I don’t want to be brushed off like I was at the match,” she warned him.

“We’re in the middle of a crowded restaurant,” he hissed. His mum gave him a look.

“We’re in a back corner near the kitchen,” she corrected him. “We won’t be leaving this table until I get some answers.”

“What do you want to know?” he said, focusing on his linguine. She tutted.

“Why you’re willing to end a 22-year-old friendship, for starters.”

“I don’t want anything to end, Anne,” Niall muttered, poking his chicken. He glared at Niall, his food momentarily forgotten.

“I suppose you think that I do,” he snapped. “In case you didn’t notice,  _ I _ was the one who reached out to you as a friend first and you couldn’t give me the decency to treat me the same before shooting me down.”

“ _ What _ are you talking about?” his mum asked. Niall gave him a pointed look.

“Do you want to tell her, or should I?”

He gave him a dirty look and turned to his expectant mother.

“I asked him if he would be OK with Louis moving in with us,” he said under his breath.

His mother looked like she had the life drained out of her. She glanced at Niall, who returned her gaze with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sure that you can imagine my response.”

“I’m sure that I can. You’ve got about as much tact as a bull in a china shop.” Niall let out an indignant squawk. “So what’s wrong?”

“What are you —?”

“You’re not one to rush headfirst into something, even if it is … familiar,” she said. “Even if you wanted to reconnect and see if he changed, you wouldn’t be jumping to living together so quickly. What’s the impetus?”

He knew that he wouldn’t get anything past her. He glanced around to make sure that everyone was fully engaged with their conversations before he proceeded.

“He’s HIV Positive.”

“Christ,” his mum said, rubbing her temples. “How do you —?”

“I saw his medications and confirmed what they were with Perrie,” he said, abruptly. “The confirmation went from there.”

“But you’ve been —?”

“I’m not sure if either of you — or the tabloids, for that matter — are aware, but my sex life is between myself and the person who is currently with me,” he hissed. “We are careful and we haven’t done anything. He wants to take things slowly and I’m sure you can figure out why.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. About your sex life just being between the two of you. We may not be entitled to the graphic details — Lord help me, I don’t need to know what either of my children do with their partners — but it’s more than that. If you’re not careful, you could get infected as well.”

“Don’t you think that I’m aware of that? That we’re both aware of that? We spend more nights up talking about what this means than doing anything remotely nauseating, in your mind.”

“How long has he had it?” she asked, softly.

“Hard to say how long, exactly,” he cleared his throat. “He was — he was raped three years in and was only tested when they were preparing to release him.”

He was so busy staring his hands that he jumped in surprise when he felt his mum wipe his cheek. He quickly brushed off the stray tears, sitting up straighter.

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “He’s on the proper meds now, and he’s having a difficult time adjusting. If it’s not vomiting, he gets these blinding headaches and bouts of depression. He’s not the one who asked to move in with us, it was my idea.”

“I’m sure it was, sweetheart,” she said, not unkindly, “but I don’t see what you can do to make that transition any easier for him?”

“I can love him,” he said, bluntly. “Weren’t you the one who taught me that? To be a lover, choose love, give love? Love everyone, always?” His mum looked at him in amazement.

“I suppose that I was,” she replied. After a moment’s silence, she added, “I do have one other question.” He waited for her to continue. “Why did you call?”

He looked at Niall for a brief moment. The lad was stony-faced up until that point, but now he spoke up before Harry could.

“That was one of his conditions for Harry if I gave them my blessing,” said Niall. His mum turned to look at Niall in shock. “Some people just hold all the right strings.”

She turned back to look at him, taking his hands in her own.

“I can’t say I’m happy about all of this; I won’t lie to you,” she said. “I want you to be safe and he’s still the person who took you away from me.” She let out a sigh. “He’s also the person who is still trying to give parts of you back to me, though, and I can’t discredit him that.”

“Just promise me … promise me that you’ll be careful. I don’t just mean with him as a person or physically. Harry … this is like a game of Russian roulette. Any moment, he could end up with a cold or a virus that could send him to the hospital. I know that you know that, but you’ll never  _ know _ that until you actually experience it, and I don’t want you to suffer that kind of pain.”

“It’s part of it, mum,” he said, squeezing her hand. “The pain, the fear … it’s all part of the deal now, but I wouldn’t consider sparing myself those things for a second if it means that I get one second longer with him. Not after what it took for us to get back to one another and do it relatively normally this time around.”


	8. Long Time Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis ends up in Guy's Hospital. Harry is sent into orbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I lifted some dialogue and plot concepts from Season 2 of "Queer As Folk" (U.S.)

“What are you cooking?” he asked, walking into the kitchen. He just got out of the shower and only had a towel wrapped around his waist. He came up from behind Louis, wrapping his arms around him.

“Pasta primavera,” Louis replied, leaning into his touch. Louis let out a tiny moan as he began kissing his neck. “Quit it, Haz, you know that drives me crazy. I’ll burn the food!”

“It wouldn’t be the only thing in here that’s smokin’.”

“You know, I’m considering not feeding you because of that awful pun.” He pouted.

“I thought that you loved my puns!”

“No, I love your  _ buns _ . I think you need to get your hearing checked.”

“My mistake,” he quipped. He took a taste of the veggies. “They seem finished; let me just get dressed and let’s eat.”

Louis took a taste of it as well. He was chewing thoughtfully when he got a sort of pained expression on his face. He stumbled slightly.

“Lou, are you OK?” he asked, steadying him.

“Yeah,” said Louis quickly. “I think I just put too much garlic in it.”

“You don’t react like that to too much  _ garlic _ ,” he said, still uncertain.

“I’m fine, Haz. I promise,” said Louis, dishing out their plates. Once he finished doing so, he turned around with a mischievous look.

“What?” he asked self-consciously.

Louis didn’t respond; Louis simply tugged slightly at the towel around his waist, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud. His heart rate accelerated, his skin burning despite the coolness of the linoleum. He could feel himself swelling as he watched Louis drop to his knees, looking up at him through his long eyelashes.

“I-I’m sure that this isn’t sanitary,” he stammered, and Louis smirked.

“My kitchen, my rules,” he teased. “I suppose I can let you punish me later, though.”

 

***

 

He walked back into his flat several days later with a raging migraine. He spent the last few days in the recording studio trying to finish some songs that were incomplete lyrically, while recording others that were all but set to go. It was frustrating trying to jump from one song to the next because he felt that he was not committing enough time to any one song, and he was at his wits end.

To top it off, he hardly had time to see Louis, who was still working crazy hours and had to cancel their dinner plans for the last few evenings. He didn’t hold it against Louis; he knew that Louis had to work as much as he did, but he missed seeing him and he had the arising suspicion that Louis was purposefully brushing him off. After all, he had to eat at some point.

He hung his coat up on the rack, threw his keys down on the kitchen table and collapsed in a heap on the sofa with a groan. Maybe if he wished really hard, he would never have to move again and Louis would teleport himself to him.

_ Even then, Niall wouldn’t be too fond of the arrangement _ he thought, bitterly.

All of a sudden, he heard the buzzer go off. Grumbling, he got up off the sofa.

“Yeah?” he said, over the intercom.

“It’s your fairy godmother!” came Perrie’s voice. He rolled his eyes and buzzed her in.

“Some fairy godmother you are; you didn’t bring my prince along,” he said, when he opened the door less than two minutes later.

“I would have, but I’d have to bill you for time and expenses,” she chirped, skipping past him. “I brought reinforcements!”

Right before he could close the door, three other bodies floated in after Perrie.

“Hiya Harry,” said Perrie’s mate, Jade. Behind her were Leigh-Anne and Jesy.

“Christ, I’m in trouble,” he remarked, eyeing the four women suspiciously. “I almost never get the full package deal.”

“Careful. The walls have ears and that would make one hell of a cover story,” smirked Leigh-Anne. “Why is it that when we go out for drinks, we never crash here? This place is brill!”

“Because it smells like boy,” said Perrie, crinkling her nose. She eyed a sock that was lying in the middle of the room and then gave him a disapproving look.

“Don’t look at me, I’m not the only one who lives here!”

“You wouldn’t know it by the way you talk about him lately.” He crossed his arms.

“If you’ve come here to cross-examine me, you can save it. You can save the lectures as well,” he said, as Jesy opened her mouth. She flipped him off. “Charming one, you are.”

“Actually, we came to kidnap you,” replied Jesy. Everyone stared at her. “Oh, shit, right, no I meant —”

“I get it,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair. “I’ve neglected everyone, I know. I am sorry, really.”

“We know,” said Jade, cheerfully. “You can make it up to us by coming out and buying the first three rounds!”

“I knew that there had to be a catch,” he smirked. “Fine, let me just get my portable charging pack and then we can leave.”

He went to move toward his room when his phone started ringing. Patting down his pockets and looking around, he noticed that it was on the floor.

“Hello?” he said without bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Is this Mr. Azoff?”

“Wha — who’s calling?”

“This is Nurse Stevens calling from Guy’s Hospital. I have you listed as Mr. Louis Tomlinson’s emergency contact. Would that be correct?”

He felt his blood run cold and gripped the corner of the wall.

“Is he OK?”

“Are you Mr. Azoff?”

“Y-Yes, I am. Right, is he OK?”

“He was brought in earlier, sir. We have him in a room. You should come here soon.”

“I’ll be there,” he said, ending the call and shoving the phone into his pocket. He stared at the wall, unaware that Perrie was calling his name until she touched him on the shoulder.

“Harry? Harry, what’s wrong?” she asked, concernedly.

He turned to look at her, fear clearly defined in his eyes.

 

***

 

“Louis,” he breathed when he finally entered the hospital room.

Louis was hooked up to about a dozen different wires and was laying there unconscious. Louis’ skin looked slightly yellow, especially around the eyes, and he looked puffier than last he remembered. He took several breaths, trying not to have a panic attack right there in the middle of the hospital room. Louis needed him right now and he had to keep it together for him.

He looked up when a woman, who he presumed to be Louis’ doctor, entered.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Ableman,” said the woman, softly.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, anxiously, not caring if he was coming off as rude. “They wouldn’t tell me at the reception.”

“Are you Mr. Azoff?” He nodded, rapidly. “Mr. Tomlinson seems to have reacted poorly to one of the medications that he is on to combat HIV. The drug Complera — one of the major side effects can be signs of liver damage.”

“Holy shit,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He looked down at Louis.

“Can I ask if Mr. Tomlinson experienced any nausea, stomach pain or loss of appetite?”

“Yes, all of those in the beginning … he never indicated that he still was — aren’t those mild side effects?”

“They are, but if they continue beyond two to four weeks, we have cause for concern. Did he ever mention having clay-colored stools or any suicidal thoughts?”

“Christ, no,” he breathed. He felt his anxiety rising.

“Well, the drugs that he’s on now appear to have worked their way to what could have resulted in a near fatal reaction. He was found unconscious outside of his apartment.”

“Is he going to be OK?”

“It all depends,” said Dr. Ableman, making a note on her clipboard, “on the next few days. We’re going to keep him here so that we can monitor him, and we’re going to keep him off of his meds until we can find a new combination that won’t prove to be lethal. Until then, all we can do is ensure that his viral load remains undetectable.”

The doctor moved to walk out when he called out to her again.

“Can — can I stay the night?”

“Are you family?” she asked, turning around to look at him. He shook his head.

“I’m his partner.” She nodded, understanding.

“I’ll have someone bring some blankets as soon as possible.” She smiled kindly. “We’ll make sure to keep an eye on him, Mr. Azoff. He’s in capable hands.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” he said, absentmindedly, looking back at Louis.

As she left, he sat down at the chair next to Louis’ bedside and took his hand in his own, kissing it gently.

_ I’m just afraid that it’s in someone higher up’s hands now _ he thought.

 

***

 

Louis was unconscious for more than two days and during that time, he was at his wits end. He was on the receiving end of numerous streams of texts from Perrie, offering words of encouragement and offering to come down to the hospital before, between and after shifts. He appreciated her concern, but he knew that he was the only non-family member who would be allowed in the room, and he didn’t want to have to put on face for her. Even though he wished that it were anything but the circumstances, at least Louis couldn’t see how much of a mess he probably appeared.

It was on the fourth day, when he was beginning to feel that hope was lost, that Louis finally began to stir. He was spaced out, staring at the wall, when he felt Louis’ hand weakly squeeze his own. He nearly shot out of his chair. He would have, too, if Louis didn’t anchor him.

“Lou,” he breathed, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” mumbled Louis, his voice cracking from lack of use. “Where am I?”

“Guy’s Hospital,” he replied, quickly. “Let me call the doctor —”

“Wait,” said Louis. He paused, watching as Louis’ face fell. “Christ, what happened?”

“What do you remember?” he asked, uncertainly.

“I was walking home from my shift … it was pretty early still,” he recalled, closing his eyes. “Then …” He opened his eyes. “That’s the last thing that I remember.”

“Your neighbors Marlene and Jonathan found you unconscious in the corridor,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “They called 999.”

“How did you —?”

“They had Hershel Azoff down as your emergency contact,” he said, slight amusement finding its way into his tone despite himself. Louis flushed.

“I’m so sorry. I knew I couldn’t well give your real name. I didn’t know who else to say —”

“Louis, don’t you dare apologize for that. I’m glad that you did or I wouldn’t have any idea of what was happening!” He exhaled when he realized that the loudness of his voice was starting to excite Louis. “So this is why I haven’t seen you in the last few days, then?”

Louis hung his head.

“I know that I promised not to keep pushing you away, but Christ — look at me!” Louis extended his arms, which were puffy and had spots of rashes on them. “I look like a freak!”

“You do  _ not _ ,” he insisted. “Louis, you couldn’t do anything to prevent the reaction that you had to the meds. You have to tell someone if you’re having them, though. You could have permanently damaged your liver if this had gone on any longer!”

His heat broke when Louis’ eyes filled up with tears, and he moved closer to Louis. He stroked the other boy’s hair.

“I didn’t think that it would happen so quickly,” said Louis, and he knew what he was alluding to immediately.

“Nothing is happening,” he said, seriously. “You’re going to be out of here in a few days.”

“Even if that’s true, I know how it’s going to go from here. Trips in and out consistently — it’ll become a revolving door.”

“You can’t think like that,” he reiterated. “Right now, you need to focus on regaining your strength. Your doctor seems optimistic, so let me call her to let her know that you’re awake. In the meantime, have some ice chips.”

Louis reluctantly let him feed him some of the chips, closing his eyes as he swallowed.

“I’m still so tired,” he said.

“Rest,” he whispered. “At least until the doctor gets here.”

 

***

 

His head was practically spinning; he was surprised that he wasn’t in orbit. He had to go home to get a change of clothes. So far he had minimized his time in the flat, only stopping back to get a few essentials for himself and at Louis’ for his essentials, but he couldn’t go any longer wearing the same pair of trousers.

He unlocked the door and was greeted by what felt like an audience.

“Harry,” his mother breathed, moving over to hug him. He hesitated, before wrapping an arm around her in retaliation. Looking over her shoulder, he saw his sister Gemma, his step-dad Robin, as well as Perrie, Jade, Leigh-Anne and Jade.

“How did you —?”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” said Perrie from the corner. “I was bringing in your mail when your mum rang and I didn’t want to lie …”

He untangled his limbs from his mother’s and began making his way to the back of the flat, moving like a zombie.

“H, sit down,” Gemma said, softly. “I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t have time,” he said, shortly. “I just came back for a change of clothes and then I’m going back to the hospital.”

“How is he? Is he conscious?” asked Jade.

“What are the doctors saying?” added Leigh-Anne.

“You should get some rest,” insisted Robin.

He slammed the door to his bedroom behind him, breathing out a sigh of relief. He knew that they were all good-meaning, but if he had one more question lobbed his way, he would become homicidal.

He was digging through his drawers, looking for a fresh pair of clothes to wear when he heard the door open. Glancing briefly at the door, he resumed scavenging when he saw that it was only Perrie. He heard her sit down on his bed, the springs squeaking.

“You know, I think this is the first time that I’ve seen you allow your room to descend into a shithole,” she said, bluntly. He snorted, moving around her to look for a clean pair of jeans.

“Christ, I can’t find my black jeans,” he said, cursing internally.

“They’re in your hand, love,” said Perrie, pointing to his right hand.

“Oh.” He quickly made the switch.

“Have you spoken to Niall?” she asked after a few moments. He glared at her.

“No,” he said. “I don’t need the ‘I told you so’ speech.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Like hell. Some days I think I hear him practicing it in the mirror. Where the hell is my Rolling Stones shirt?”

“You’re wearing it.”

He sighed, tugging it off over his head and swapping it for a Green Bay Packers T-shirt.

“Robin’s right, you should take a nap,” Perrie insisted. “Louis will still be there when you get back in a few hours.”

“I don’t have time to nap and you don’t know that,” he said, aggravated.

“Look, Harry, no one’s expecting you to be brave on account of us —”

“Who the fuck am I being brave for that’s in this flat?” he said, sharply. “I’m just trying to keep it together for Louis, who’s currently thinking that this is it — ‘all She wrote’, and all that.”

“You’re allowed to be upset, too. You can ask for help.”

“No. No, I really can’t,” he said, running his hand through his hair, and turning to look directly at Perrie. “I appreciate all that you’ve done, Pez, but I have to be there for him now. It’s not about me; it will  _ never _ be about me where his health is concerned, and it can’t be.”

He stuffed his cell phone, keys and wallet into his pockets, and left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

 

***

 

What he was unaware of when he went to Louis’ flat was that Perrie would not take his insistence that he was fine on his own to heart.

“Horan!” she shouted across the pitch.

Niall, who was practicing dribbling, looked up in her direction. She could vaguely make out a baffled expression on his face as he approached her.

“What’s up, Perrie?” he asked, adjusting his fringe. “Am I in trouble?” he teased.

“You will be if you don’t get your arse down to Guy’s Hospital.”

“What are you —?”

“Louis was admitted five days ago. Or have you not noticed the surprisingly quiet flat?”

Niall was silent, and she could see that he was trying to mentally catch up.

“I — I figured that we were just missing each other. He had started only coming back when he knew that I wouldn’t be there …” Perrie looked unimpressed. “Is Harry OK?”

“He’s putting up a brave front, but it’s hard,” she said, shortly. “Anyone with eyes could see that he’s running on autopilot.”

“Why the fuck didn’t he tell me?”

“I imagine that it was to spare you the pain,” said Perrie, sardonically. “I know how close you and Louis have gotten.”

Niall clenched his jaw. Abruptly, he tossed the football into the air and kicked it aggressively to the other end of the pitch. He turned back to Perrie, his eyes flashing.

“I told him that he would only get hurt going back to him, didn’t I? I told him!”

Perrie’s eyes flashed.

“Right again! Congratulations!" she shouted, mockingly.

Niall looked abashed by her remark. Running a hand through his hair again, he walked away sheepishly, and she eyed him in disdain.

 

***

 

When he returned to the hospital, he entered the room just as the nurse was leaning over Louis’ bed.

“Hi,” he said, and she turned around.

“Hello,” she replied. “It’s time for his medicine.”

“What medicine?” he asked, sharply.

“His HIV medication —”

“Is it new?”

“No, it’s his prescribed —”

“Dr. Ableman said that she was keeping him off his old medication until they found new drugs! That’s what nearly caused liver damage.”

“Sir, I have my orders —”

“Well, you’re going to have to inject me with that before you do him.”

“I’m going to get a doctor.”

“Do that,” he said, drily. “I’d love a chance to tell someone else how to do their job.”

The nurse left the room and he deflated, sinking into his chair.

He couldn’t handle this on his own.

 

***

 

“I’m sorry … I’m so sorry, I know that you’re busy —”

“Bollocks,” said Perrie, pulling him into a hug. They were standing in the corridor outside of Louis’ room. He had called her in a moment of sheer desperation, even though he knew that she was on her shift right now.

“You’ll get in trouble —”

“Harry, don’t worry about me. I got someone to cover, I’m off the clock. It’ll be OK.”

“I don’t want him to die,” he sobs, crumbling in her arms. If he were not so distressed, he would have marveled at her strength for being able to support his practically dead weight.

“He’s — he’s not going to die,” faltered Perrie. “He’s going to get through this, H. It may take some time, but he’ll fight back.”

“I’m not strong enough for this,” he said, pulling back and wiping his eyes aggressively. “Niall was right —”

“Niall doesn’t know shit.”

He let out a shuddering breath, leaning up against the wall for some support.

“Listen to me, Harry. Are you listening?”

“I’m listening,” he whimpered.

“This is awful, there’s no denying that,” she said, “but you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. When you were kidnapped — before you and Louis both realized that you had to leave — you were strong; you survived. When you were brought to the institution, when Grimshaw did unthinkable things and when you had to testify on national TV … in front of Louis — you survive all that, too. In great adversity, you shine through, and I know that you’ll shine through these dark times. You know how I know that?”

He shook his head, wiping his eyes again. He looked at her serious, but kind expression.

“Because you have to,” she said, simply. “Also, because you — no matter how many people advise you against it — love him, and that’s worth more than anything else.”

He nodded, and hugged her tightly.

“Thanks, Pez,” he mumbled into her hair. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled sadly.

“Thankfully, you’ll never have to find out.”

 

***

 

After their comfort session in the middle of the corridor, he and Perrie walked down to the cafeteria to get something to eat at her insistence. When he made the mistake of telling her that he hadn’t eaten yet that day, she nearly had his head.

“You have to keep up your strength as well,” she insisted. “You can’t end up in a hospital bed right next to him.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “I reckon he pulls off the gown look better, anyways.”

“Well, that’s a given,” she smirked. He stuck his tongue out. “Can I ask you something?”

“I reckon so,” he snorted. She gave him a look.

“Has anyone contacted his mother?” He bit his lip.

“I’ve been deliberating for the last few days,” he admitted. “I know that she should know, but he hasn’t even told her or any of his siblings that he’s Positive. I think he’s afraid that he’ll never see his younger siblings again — or the youngest two ever — if he does.”

“She was a nurse or something related, wasn’t she?” He nodded. “She should know then that they’re not going to be infected being in the same room as him.”

“It’s deeper than that, though,” he continued, spooning at some sickly Jell-O. “She already doesn’t know how to behave around him — he’s said as much. It’ll just be another reason to avoid him. Trust me, if anyone can understand that, I can.”

Perrie gave him a sympathetic look.

“He’s the one who encouraged you to start afresh with your mum, H. Don’t you think that you should try to help him do the same? Even if it means he’s temporarily angry?”

“You’re right,” he said. “Of course you’re right. I’ll call her once we get back upstairs. Her home number is in his contacts.”

 

***

 

He said goodbye to Perrie in the lobby, hugging and thanking her again for all of her help, and began making his way back to Louis’ room. He was about to walk into the room when he froze in the doorway, as if there was a physical barrier preventing him from entering.

Sat next to a sleeping Louis was Niall, who — for reasons unbeknownst to him — was gently strumming his guitar. Of all the people that he expected to walk in and see in that room, he easily stumbled upon the absolute last one.

He wasn’t sure if Niall heard the footsteps, his pounding heart or more likely, his breathing, but Niall glanced over his shoulder slightly, jolting when he saw that he was there. He offered Niall a smile, and the lad put his guitar on the ground and moved to talk in the corridor.

“You’re here,” he breathed, shocked. “When did you —?”

“About 20 minutes before you showed up.”

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ Niall walked the corridors uncertainly. He didn’t know if he would run into Harry or if he had gone home to nap, or something. Part of him wanted to see Harry, but the other part was worried that if he was there, Harry would throw him out without a second thought. Things were so volatile between them lately, and Niall had handled the situation so poorly that he wouldn’t necessarily blame Harry if he did just that. _

_ He peered into the room that he was told to go to and saw that Louis was alone. He looked small under several layers of blankets, his eyes closed as he slept. Niall started to turn around, second-guessing his decision to come here, when a voice called out. _

_ “Niall?” Niall spun around and was greeted by a slightly groggy Louis. _

_ “Sorry … I didn’t mean to wake you.” _

_ “I was just resting me eyes; not asleep,” assured Louis. “Do you want to come in?” _

_ Niall stepped through the doorway hesitantly, his guitar in his right hand feeling heavy. _

_ “Erm. How are you?” Niall asked, lamely. To his credit, Louis didn’t laugh in his face. _

_ “Slightly better,” he replied. “You missed the primetime rash and puffiness, so you can count yourself lucky,” he joked. _

_ “How are you so —?” _

_ “Calm? The painkillers help.” Niall laughed uncertainly, and Louis smiled slightly. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I? It’s laughing or crying, and to be honest, I’m a bit tired of crying.” _

_ Niall nodded in understanding, and he did understand to an extent. There are some circumstances that just cannot be changed. _

_ “You’ll get better,” said Niall after a few moments of silence. Louis nodded vaguely. After a pause, he started to move toward the door again, but Louis’ next words made him pause. _

_ “I’m sorry.” Niall turned around. “For a lot of things, really, but mostly for putting Harry through this pain, too. You were probably right — he should’ve listened to you and gotten out while he could with the minimum amount of bullshit and pain.” _

_ “What do I know?” shrugged Niall. “You’re talking to someone who’s never been in a long-term relationship — what the hell do I know about loving someone?” _

_ “You love him,” said Louis, seriously. “That’s one of the strongest forms of love. You want what’s best for him, even if he doesn’t know what that is for himself or want to hear it.” _

_ “I prefer your way of thinking,” smirked Niall, and Louis laughed. “I should let you rest.” _

_ “C-Could you maybe stay for a while?” Louis asked. “I could use the company.” _

_ Niall hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. He sat down in the chair next to Louis’ bed, propping the guitar on his lap. _

_ “You play?” _

_ “In passing,” Niall shrugged. “It’s tough with practices and matches, but I can’t quit it.” _

_ “You must really love it, then. Would it be overstepping if I asked you to play something?” _

_ “Probably. I brought it along for that reason, though,” grinned Niall. Louis returned the grin. “Any requests?” _

_ Louis flushed slightly. _

_ “Do you know Harry’s song? Sweet Creature?” Niall stared at him pensively. _

_ “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

He wiped a tear that he didn’t realize was forming in the corner of his left eye.

“How did you even know? I didn’t —”

“Perrie,” said Niall, simply. He should have known. “Practically threatened to chop me balls off if I didn’t remove my head from me arse. Don’t blame her, really. I acted like a prick.”

“Niall, you don’t —”

“Yeah, I do,” Niall interrupted. “Look, mate, it’s going to take a while to get used to … it. Your relationship with him. I look at him … and I see how broken you were when we were kids. I know it’s different now, but I just can’t get that image out of my mind and I want to forget it more than anything. I’ll try, though, to make an effort to see past it.”

He pulled Niall into a crushing hug, which the other lad reciprocated. He was definitely tearing up and he was almost positive that he could feel Niall shaking despite his tight hold on him. Eventually, they pulled apart and looked at each other.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, rubbing his left arm. “I know that I should’ve told you …”

“I understand why you didn’t, though,” finished Niall. “You didn’t need any more grief on top of dealing with everything else. I’m here, though, if you want to go home and take a shower. I’ll be honest, mate, you reek.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve mostly showered in the hospital stall; pardon me, your Highness.”

“Yeah, well, you won’t keep Louis smelling like that.” He smacked Niall’s arm. “I can give you a ride now, yeah?”

“All right, I’m going to go in there to talk to him quickly, then I’ll run home, but just to shower. Perrie already force-fed me cafeteria food because apparently Jell-O isn’t sufficient.”

“Funny that. A nurse concerned about your dietary habits.”


	9. Meetings and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis' family comes to visit. Harry and Louis have an important talk.

He made good on his promise to shower at home and by the time he returned to the hospital, it was 6 p.m. Although he felt slightly refreshed after a shower in his own home, he felt like he had lived the last five days all in this one day, and he was exhausted. He still had more that he had to do, though, before he could sit and try to decompress by Louis’ side.

He was stood in the empty stairwell, staring at his phone that he added Louis’ mother, Johannah’s contact to. He was preparing himself for what he was sure would not be the most pleasant phone conversation. Finally, he pressed the call button, and held the phone up to his ear, trying to slow his pounding heart.

It was the fourth ring when a soft, low feminine voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Erm hi. Is this Johannah Deakin? It’s Harry — Harry Styles calling.”

“No shit,” said the voice, her surprise evident. Then, presumably realizing that she did not answer his question, continued, “No, this is her eldest daughter, Charlotte.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, dumbly. Why it never occurred to him that any of Louis’ sisters could be the one picking up the phone is beyond him. “Is your mother available?”

“Yeah … hold on a second, will you?”

He listened as Charlotte yelled for her mother, trying not to laugh as he also heard her telling off her younger siblings for the noise — and apparently mess — that they were making.

“Sorry,” she said, breathlessly, returning to the line. “She’s on her way, she’s just elbow deep in toys and dirty laundry.”

“I can imagine,” he said, laughing nervously. “Two sets of twins, no less.”

“Yeah … can I ask —?”

“Thank you, Lottie,” said an older-sounding voice from the other line. “Go fetch Daisy and Phoebe to help with the twins, would you? Hello?” she finally said.

“Hi, Mrs. Deakin. It’s Harry Styles.”

There was silence on the other end and he glanced at his phone to make sure that they were not disconnected. He saw the number still increasing on their call time.

“Are you still there?”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry dear,” she said, her voice slightly off now. “How can I — erm …”

“I’m sorry to call you like this, ma’am. I know it must feel as odd for you as it does for me.” She let out a noise of agreement. “It’s just …”

“Is it Louis? Is he OK?” she asked suddenly, her mind seemingly catching up with the context of that being the only reasonable explanation for him calling her.

“He’s OK now, but he’s in the hospital,” he blurted out.

“H-He’s where?”

“Guy’s Hospital,” he said, slower this time. “He was admitted five days ago —”

“And I’m only just being called? By  _ you _ ?”

He knew that she likely didn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it came out; she was upset, but it still stung. He took the hit, though, and continued.

“I reckon he didn’t want you to worry,” he said. It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Right, well you can tell my son —”

“Look, Mrs. Deakin —”

“For goodness sakes, call me Johannah. That’s what everyone calls me.”

“Johannah,” he amended. “There’s a lot that you and Louis need to discuss, and it’s not my place to discuss that with you, least of all over the phone. We’ve reconnected, but I know that no matter how much he refuses to admit it, he’s scared you’ll never speak to him again. That’s why he didn’t call you. I reckon that’s also why he changed his emergency contact.”

Johannah was silent, but he could still hear her heavy breathing on the other line.

“Why did you return to him?” she asked finally. “After what he put you through — put your family and friends through. How could you possibly forgive that?”

“I love him,” he said, simply. “Maybe it sounds ridiculous, borderline mental, but I do. I have since I was 17, and it took him coming back into my life to accept what happened nine years ago was only the beginning. I’ve gotten to know the man he is now … the man that he can be when he’s in control, and I only love him more. Love him even more for fighting every day of his life to keep his mental health in balance and for trusting that I won’t leave him even on the days when the scales tip in the wrong direction.”

He let out a breath, having said that as one stream-of-consciousness, and he heard vague noises in the background on the other end of the line.

“If you give me your number, I’ll text you my cellular so that you can give me the hospital details. I’ll leave the young ones with my husband, and Lottie and I will be there in a little over two hours.”

“Yeah, of course.” He told his number to her. “I’ll be here, so give me a ring if you have trouble finding the room; I can meet you downstairs.”

“Thank you, Harry,” said Johannah. “And Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for reminding me what it means to truly love someone unconditionally.”

 

***

 

He and Louis were sat in the room watching the telly later that evening when he felt his phone buzz. He glanced at the ID and saw Johannah’s name appear. He answered it.

“Hello?” he said.

“We’re on our way up,” replied Johannah. “Could you —?”

“Yeah, just hold off for a moment,” he said, biting his lip. “I’ll come out to the corridor.”

He hung up the phone, putting it back into his front pocket and glancing at Louis, who already had his eyes trained on him with his brows furrowed.

“Are you leaving?” He could tell that Louis was trying to hide his disappointment.

“No, I’m not,” he smiled. “There’s just someone here to see you.”

Louis glanced at the clock.

“At this hour? Who would —?” Louis froze, slowly turning to look at him. “Who the hell were you just talking to on the phone?”

“Louis —”

“Answer me,” insisted Louis. “ _ Who were you talking to _ ?”

“Your mum. She and Lottie are on their way up,” he said, closing his eyes and bracing himself for an explosion.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” muttered Louis, collapsing into his pillow. “Harry, how could you do that? You had no right!”

“Louis, you  _ have _ to talk to them. What you’re doing by pushing them away and keeping something so huge from them isn’t any better than how I pushed my mum away for all those years. You said it yourself that I had imagine how she must have felt.”

“Christ, Harry, I didn’t tell you that so you could turn around and blindside me!”

“Can you honestly tell me that you would’ve called her yourself if I had suggested it?” Louis was silent. “I spoke with her, Lou. She’s upset that it took five days for her to hear. I don’t blame her — you’re her son. Her oldest baby. You’ll always be that for her, no matter how close or how far apart the two of you are from one another.”

“They should be up here by now, so I’ll go get them from the corridor.”

He stood up before Louis could offer any rebuttal and stuck his head outside. He saw two rather pretty women whom he vaguely recognized from the old family photo that was in Louis’ cabin years ago. Of course, they looked older, but no less pretty now. The older one, clearly Johannah, had the same wavy brown hair and kind complexion.

Beside her stood the one who must be Lottie, with long, platinum blonde hair arranged into plaits. She wore a heavy coating of makeup, but with an air of a professional touch that prevented it from looking tacky or overdone. She was about the same height as her mother, but with a different, more petite build, and she also wore a kind, albeit worried expression.

“Hi,” he said, stepping out of the room. “Johannah and Charlotte?”

The pair nodded and Charlotte chirped, “You can call me Lottie.”

“Nice to meet you both,” he said, shaking their hands. “I’ve seen photos before, but they don’t do the two of you justice.”

The pair looked slightly flustered, and he simply smiled. It was soon replaced by a slightly nervous look.

“I just told him that you were coming and he’s a bit nervous,” he said, honestly. “I wouldn’t take it personally if he —”

“I may be laid up, but I’m not hard of hearing,” came Louis’ voice from inside the room.

Lottie snorted.

“Still the same Lou.” She sidestepped him, walking into the room, and he moved aside so Johannah could do the same, trailing behind her so that they could have their mini-reunion.

“How’re you doing, bro?” asked Lottie. She was perched on the windowsill, her legs crossed. Johannah was fussing with his hair, trying to make it lay flatter.

“I’m doing fine — mum, would you quit it?” Louis said, exasperatedly. To her credit, it didn’t seem to phase her. She  _ did _ have six other children.

“28-years-old and you still can’t run a comb through your hair,” she tutted.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting to entertain,” Louis said, looking pointedly at him.

“Don’t you go blaming him,” chastised Johannah. “What the hell’s the matter with you, not telling us that you were sick? We would’ve come down earlier in the week.”

“It’s not necessary,” Louis muttered. “You’ve got the babies to care for. Well, I guess they’re technically not babies anymore. They must be what — 6-years-old?”

“Yeah, they’re sprouting up,” said Johannah, softly. “Maybe when you get out, you can come and see them —”

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” Louis said, shortly. “Just because I’m in here doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t wanted anything to do with me.”

“That’s not  _ true _ , Louis! You know it’s hard. What am I supposed to tell the girls? They don’t know what to say around you.”

“Something tells me that has less to do with them and more to do with what you say when you think they’re asleep.” Johannah’s head whipped to look at Lottie, who raised her hands defensively.

“They come into  _ my _ room in tears,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “They think they’ll never see him again because you’ll get mad at them, too.”

He inwardly cursed at Perrie. He should have never created this mess without talking to Louis about contacting his mother. He had no place upending Louis’ family’s life. He started to edge his way out of the room to give them space when Louis looked over.

“Where do you think you’re doing?” Louis asked, accusatorily.

“I thought that I should step out, it’s not my place —”

“You invited them here, Harold. You’re here to stay.”

He bit his lip, returning to his corner of the room, and kept his eyes trained on his feet.

“Look, I’m sorry that I haven’t brought along either set of twins to visit you since you moved back to London. It’s been busy and yeah, maybe I used that as an excuse not to make the trip, but it’s not like you’re ringing us. Christ, Louis, I had to hear from a complete stranger that you were ill and I don’t even know with what!”

Louis glanced at him. He gave Louis what he hoped was a reassuring nod.

“Sit down, mum.” Her eyes bulged out.

“How serious is it? I thought you were OK. you said he was OK!” she said, pointing at him. He wished that he could melt into the wall.

“I  _ am _ OK,” Louis said, grabbing onto her hand to get her attention. “Mum, sit down.”

She did as he said, not letting go of his hand as she looked frightened. Louis glanced at his sister, who was still perched on the windowsill. Her face was relatively calm, which he was certain was a façade that she had perfected for her younger siblings’ benefit over the years.

“Mum, Lots … I won’t beat around the subject — mostly because I’ve found the faster I rip the plaster off, the better. I’m HIV Positive.”

He had to look away when he saw the looks of terror and devastation wash over each of their faces. Clearly, they were expecting something bad, but speaking from his own experience, you never imagine hearing something like that. Johannah covered her mouth with her free hand, eyes welling up, as Lottie stared at Louis, now with a dumbfounded expression.

“How long …”

“I was tested when I was released.”

“And how …?” she trailed off.

He nodded again when Louis looked at him, and mouthed,  _ You can say it _ . Louis let out a shaky breath, looking directly at Lottie.

“I … I was raped.”

Johannah had silent tears running down her cheeks as Lottie hopped off the windowsill and got into Louis’ bed to hug him. Despite being his junior by seven years, in that moment she looked as though she was his older sister trying to comfort him. It struck him how naturally the role must be for her, especially in the more recent years of her life.

“The meds they had me on — they were damaging my liver and I didn’t realize it,” Louis continued. “There were some side effects, but I didn’t want to acknowledge them … I thought that they would go away, but I was so stupid. My neighbors found me unconscious outside of my flat after coming back from a shift. That’s when the medics brought me here and called Harry, who’s been here with me since.”

He kept his eyes on his trainers, feeling as though he was intruding on a family moment. He wished that Louis would let him step out so that he and his family could have the privacy that they deserved without him — a complete and total stranger — standing in the corner.

“I’m going to be OK, though,” added Louis, in part to convince himself. “My doctor found a new combination of meds that she think will better suit me, and I’ll be released in a few days, provided my counts and levels remain normal, and my liver continues to show no indication of lasting damage.”

“You’re so lucky to be alive,” said Johannah, weakly. “Honey, you should come home. At least for a while so that you can recuperate.” Louis shook his head.

“Mum, I appreciate that, but I can’t leave London. My job is here … my life is here.” Louis looked over at him as he raised his head at the same time.

“You have to do what’s best for you, Lou. If that’s returning to Donny for a while …”

“I need to be able to take care of myself,” he insisted. “There can’t possibly be someone with me every second of every day. You all have lives, so do I. At least I’m hoping to if I can ever get out of this damned hospital gown and make myself a cuppa.”

“I can do that,” he said, finding his out. He glanced at Lottie. “Lottie, do you want to help me? We can bring some back for all of us.”

“Sure,” she said, kissing the top of Louis’ head as she got off the bed.

She followed him out into the corridor, where the two of them began making their way to the cafeteria. Now, with some more room to breathe, he felt slightly less wired. He would certainly make sure to prepare some decaffeinated tea for himself.

“So are you doing OK?” he asked her after a few moments of silence. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. Trust me, I’ve been on both ends.”

“How do you mean?” she asked, glancing at him.

“You know, the receiving end of news like that … and the one breaking it to someone.”

“Are you Positive, too?”

“Oh, no. No, I’m not,” he said, hurriedly. “Sorry, no. I just meant … I was — erm …”

“Christ, I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes widening at the realization. “I didn’t realize …”

“It was in a hospital after I left your brother years ago,” he clarified. “I thought you should know … he never in a million years did anything to purposefully harm me.” She nodded, gratefully. “It’s just … it’s still hard to talk about, and it’ll be the same for him. It may go away, it may not, even as he grows to accept on some level what happened. It’s like its own severe form of ‘coming out’ to someone.”

“Not to dismiss what you’re saying — I promise, it’s not my intention — but are you and my brother … are you a couple?” They had arrived at this point in the cafeteria and walked over to where the limited supply of teabags were offered.

“We haven’t really discussed it,” he admitted, focusing on what his hands were doing.

“But you love him.” It was not a question.

“How do you —?”

“I have eyes,” she said, rolling her own. “I also was listening on the landline while you were talking to mum earlier.”

“Yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re your brother’s sister.” She winked. “I do love him,” he said, answering her already answered question. “I’d like to be his boyfriend, but right now he feels like he’s treading on thin ice with about 1,000 extra pounds on his shoulders. It’s clear that he’s not ready for me to add more pressure.”

“Maybe so,” said Lottie thoughtfully, as she stirred some honey into the tea. “Maybe you don’t have to add any extra weight, though.”

“How do you figure?”

“It’s a partnership, isn’t it? Everyone’s got their baggage, it’s just a matter of easing that weight by helping the other person carry it. You two have shared experiences, even though they happened under different circumstances. You’ve already got more relatability than most couples ever do. Take advantage of that.”

“You’re only 21?” he asked. She nodded. “I wasn’t nearly as level-headed.”

“You survived,” she said, simply. “Maybe it was all you could do at the time, but you  _ did _ survive. I think that counts for more than you give yourself credit for.”

“I suppose so,” he said, picking up the two cups of tea. The one in his right hand for himself and the one in his left hand for Louis. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she said, following him out of the cafeteria. “Can I ask you one other thing?”

“You can ask me  _ two _ other things,” he said, teasingly. She groaned.

“You’re such a  _ dad _ !”

“Some people like that.” She gagged, and he laughed. It already felt like a natural friendship was growing between them and he loved that.

“ _ Anyway _ ,” she stressed. “I want to be here for him, but I don’t want to be overbearing. I was wondering if you had any advice?”

He smiled and felt his heart swelling at the sweet young woman, who obviously cared so deeply for Louis, and wanted to help him heal. They had spent maybe about 20 minutes on their own together and she already felt like a little sister to him.

“What?” she asked when she noticed his smile.

“You’re already halfway there,” he said, simply. She looked confused. “You thought to ask before simply acting.”

“It’s different for everyone,” he continued. “He’s gotten into the habit of pushing people away because he feels like he doesn’t deserve their help or their love. You kind of have to start kicking down doors to get in, which I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing. Let him know that you’re here and you’re not going anywhere; he’ll open up to you in time.” She nodded. “I’d keep in mind, though, that you are his baby sister. There are probably going to be things that he’s not comfortable discussing with you for that reason.”

She sighed, but nodded again in understanding.

“You’re a good sister, Lottie,” he added as they reached the doorway.

She smiled up at him, wrapping her one arm around him in a wide hug, careful not to spill any of the tea.

“And you’re a good boyfriend to my big brother, Harry,” she responded. “Even if he doesn’t realize that’s exactly what you are, yet.”

He smiled fondly and they re-entered the room, handing the respective teas to the others who were talking in low voices.

“What’s this?” asked Louis curiously, eyeing the arm he wrapped around Lottie. “Replacing me already?”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” he said, cheekily. “Just thought Lottie should know that she’s now stuck with another older brother.”

Lottie mock groaned, and Johannah laughed. He also grinned, looking at Louis’ whose blue eyes were twinkling with something indescribable. Something that could only be felt in the heart, but never truly articulated through speech.

Something that neither boy had ever felt for another living soul.

 

***

 

He was in hot water with his team. In the near week that Louis was in the hospital, he had completely fallen off the grid and let his missed calls nearly reach triple digits. Sufficed to say, they were furious with him and began chewing him out when he made the mistake of picking up his phone on the seventh day, while sat with Louis in the hospital room.

“Harold, where the  _ fuck _ are you?” said a shrill voice that he recognized as Jeff’s.

He cringed when he saw Louis look at him with an arched eyebrow. Jeff seldom got angry, but he knew that he was in trouble now. He walked toward the other side of the room.

“Erm, hey mate —”

“Don’t ‘hey mate’ me! Answer the damn question,” Jeff hissed.

“I can’t really —”

“Do you know how much  _ shit _ you’re in right now? I’ve covered for your arse all week and lied to my  _ father _ when the rest of the team started going over  _ my _ head asking where you are!”

He closed his eyes and leaned against the cool glass window.

“You have to level with me, Harry. I can’t cover for you if —”

“I can’t tell you,” he said, shortly.

He could imagine Jeff’s eyes bugging out from the other end of the phone.

“You  _ can’t _ —?”

“No, I can’t.” Jeff was silent and he could practically hear the wheels churning. Then, he heard an intake of breath.

“You’re not …”

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Harry, you can’t be serious.”

“ _ Deadly _ serious,” he emphasized. “Look, it’s not what you think. I’m not fucking around and leaving you high and dry. I’m exactly where I need to be. Go tell those arseholes that.”

“You have to give me more than that.”

“I —”

“Haz,” he heard Louis say. He looked up, almost having forgotten that he was in the room as well. “Go back to work. I don’t want you getting into any more trouble because of me.”

“Listen to him, Harry.”

“Don’t be daft,” Harry said, speaking in part to the pair of them. “I’m not leaving you here on your own and you,” he redirected to Jeff, “need to mind your own business.”

“You  _ are _ my business, Harry.”

“Funny, because I once considered us friends.” He heard Jeff sigh.

“You know that’s not how I meant it. I’m trying to look out for your professional interests and I can’t do that if you don’t work with me.”

He glanced again at Louis, who returned his stare. He maintained eye contact as he said the following words to Jeff:

“You can tell them that a  _ Family _ emergency came up,” he said, softly. “That’s the God’s honest truth.” He hung up the phone without another word and stuck it in his pocket.

“It’s time for you to return to reality, Haz,” Louis said when he sat back down. “I don’t expect you to stay here every moment of every day. Me mum and sister are still in town.”

“I don’t feel right leaving you here alone,” he said, stubbornly. “Not after that nurse almost gave you your old meds. Not after … not after I almost lost you again.”

Louis’ gaze softened, and he reached out to grab his hand. He blinked several times, attempting to keep his tears at bay.

“I can’t promise you that I’m not going anywhere, Haz, but I’m not going without a fight. I’m not prepared to lose you again either. You mean too much to me and I spent too much time pushing you away because I was scared.”

“You’re not scared anymore?” he said, shyly, and Louis shook his head.

“I’m sorry if I say I need you,” said Louis, hesitating for a moment. “But I don’t care, I’m not scared of love.”

Harry leaned forward and captured Louis’ lips with his own.

“You know, I never get tired of hearing you say that,” he said when they broke apart.

“What’s that?” Louis asked cheekily. He smirked.

“Don’t think that I’ll hesitate to pin you down just because you’re in a hospital bed.”

“What’s stopping you, then?”

He choked on his own saliva, and Louis’ lip twitched.

“Pardon?”

“I asked what’s stopping you?”

“Lou … we’re in a hospital —”

“And once we’re not?” He did not like the somber expression on Louis’ face.

“What’s going on, Lou?” he asked, leaning forward. Louis sighed.

“We never … we never really talked about making this … us …  _ Christ _ ,” Louis said, running a hand through his hair. “Our sex life, Harry. We haven’t really done much below the belt … I don’t want to make you unsafe …”

“There are plenty of ways to have safe sex, Louis,” he said, softly.

“I  _ know _ that,” Louis replied. “But … I guess I wasn’t …” He trailed off.

“You weren’t sure if I was interested in figuring those ways out?” Louis kept his eyes trained on his bed linens. “Lou, look at me, please.”

“I don’t know if I can, Haz. I may die of humiliation.”

“Hey,” he said, lifting Louis’ gaze by prodding the older boy’s chin gently, “you have nothing to feel humiliated about. Lou, I’m beyond touched every time you try to keep me safe. It’s one of the things that I love most about you. I don’t ever want that to change.”

He tried not to let himself get distracted by Louis’ glistening eyes.

“Besides,” he continued, “we  _ do _ have to talk about this. We’d always use a condom — that’s a given. I can top as well if you’re nervous about it breaking; I’m versatile like that.”

Louis groaned.

“Leave it to you to find a way to make a joke,” Louis snorted. He grinned back at the boy.

“We’ll be smart, Lou. We’ll always be smart and we’ll always be careful.”

“How do you know we won’t mess up?” Louis said, sounding incredibly vulnerable.

“I don’t,” he said, shrugging slightly. “There’s never a guarantee that something won’t go wrong, but we can do everything to avoid it because we have to. Because we love each other.”

“You say ‘we’ a lot,” said Louis, more an observation than a question. He nodded for him to continue. “It’s on me, though, isn’t it? Not in a bad way, I mean … you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself as well.”

“It’s a teamwork between us, Lou. I’ll never make you go through this alone. We’re partners, and as partners we have to stick together.”

“I’ll never know how I got so lucky to have another chance with you,” Louis whispered, carding his fingers through his hair. He hummed softly.

“Works both ways, love.”


	10. Returning Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry travel to Doncaster. Harry bonds with the Tomlinson-Deakins.

Life gradually returned to normal in the week following Louis’ release. He was put on a trial run of new meds to keep his viral load undetectable and his doctor insisted that he call immediately if there were any questions or concerns. He assured her that if Louis did not call her, he would.

Staying temporarily in Louis’ flat is Lottie. Johannah left a few days prior after giving him and Louis tight hugs. She then pulled him aside when Louis and Lottie were talking and insisted that he keep her updated of any changes in case Louis “forgets” any important details. She had rolled her eyes when saying that, but he could see that she was still upset about not hearing the news directly from Louis. He had smiled kindly and assured her that day or night, she would be the first to know if anything happened.

Lottie, on the other hand, was harder to convince. She determinedly told Louis that she was staying in his flat while he got resituated and refused to take no for an answer. Eventually, Johannah acquiesced as well, and Lottie was set up in Louis’ spare room.

“I love Lots to death, but she can’t stay here forever,” hissed Louis one evening. He was released from the hospital nearly a month ago and Lottie had not stopped moving since, doing odd things around the flat for him. “She’s driving me mad!”

The pair of them were side-by-side cooking dinner, occasionally hip-checking each other fondly. They were making a stew, which he insisted after he saw it in some magazine lying around Perrie’s flat. Louis, ever the indulgent one, acquiesced after he worked some “magic” on him. Also known as, tore Louis apart using just his tongue.

“She means well, you know that,” he said, taste-testing the vegetables. “She’s scared, Lou. She’s lost you more than once, but she’s probably petrified now might be permanent.”

“She has to live her life,” Louis mumbled. “I can’t be the reason she puts everything on hold. Not just her either,” he added, pointedly.

He kept his eyes fixated on the food that he was preparing in front of him. He returned to the studio since Louis was released from the hospital, but he spent as minimal time there as physically possible. He arranged so that he could do most of his writing outside of the studio, which allowed him to work from his or Louis’ flat, depending on whether or not Louis was working. Since Louis was still on minimal shifts, he ended up working from Louis’ the most. When Louis was at work, he had a habit of popping into the café and ordering treats and drinks for sometimes hours at a time so that he could sit there and not be told to leave.

“I’m living my life,” he said, finally.

“You’re living an extension of mine,” said Louis bluntly. He looked up at the older boy.

“I don’t want to smother you —”

“And I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you around,” said Louis, “but it’s a lot, Haz. I love you and I love your being here. I don’t want that to change, but I do need time to myself as well. At work, for instance.”

“I hear you,” he said, softly. He knew that Louis was right. He just worried so much.

“Hey,” said Louis, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He felt Louis stretch up and kiss the base of his neck. “I love you, yeah?”

“I love you, too,” he replied easily, leaning into Louis’ touch. “I promise, I’ll ease off. Jeffrey will probably have my balls soon, anyway, so it’s just as well I get it together.”

“Well, tell him they’re all mine if he tries,” said Louis, and he could practically  _ hear _ the smirk in Louis’ voice.

“If you want, I could also talk to Lottie?” he offered.

“Talk to me about what?” came a voice, accompanied by the sound of the door closing.

Louis let out a sigh, letting him go.

“Talk to me about what?” Lottie repeated, standing by the dining table. “Is everything OK? Are you OK, Louis? What’s —?”

“Christ, Lottie, I’m  _ fine _ !” snapped Louis, effectively silencing everyone.

He bit his lip and averted his eyes from the siblings, continuing dinner’s preparations. Quite frankly, there was not much left to do, but he knew that something was going to happen.

“What crawled up your arse and died?” she retorted, sharply. Louis let out a huff.

“Nothing,” said Louis, his voice escalating. “There isn’t any room for anything to get up there considering you’re constantly a meter behind me, wherever I go!”

He quickly turned off the stove and turned to Louis.

“Louis,  _ don’t _ ,” he implored, putting a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “You don’t mean that.”

“No, Harry, I think he means exactly what he’s saying,” said Lottie, shortly. “Never mind that people put their lives on hold to help  _ him _ ; he’s too busy thinking of how it may temporarily inconvenience  _ him _ !”

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” Louis screamed, turning beet red.

“Of course you didn’t!” countered Lottie, and he had to admit that she had a set of lungs on her. Their childhood fights were probably legendary. “You wouldn’t let someone spit on you if you were on fire, you’re so damn stubborn!”

“It’s  _ my _ life! Forgive me if because I’ve already lost enough control of it that I don’t want to be coddled any further. You know, when they told me being Positive isn’t a death sentence, I expected people to have a hard time believing that, but what I didn’t expect was for everyone to act like I am going to drop dead tomorrow!”

“Louis —” Lottie began, her face crumpling.

“Save it, Charlotte. If I’m such a bloody inconvenience, why don’t you just go home and take care of someone who  _ appreciates _ it.”

Louis stormed out of the kitchenette, brushing past Lottie and heading toward his room. They both flinched as they heard the door slam behind him.

He saw Lottie’s arms trembling and her legs start shaking, and was by her side to hold her up before she could fall to the ground. He walked her over to the couch and his heart broke as she let out a broken sob into his chest, holding her closely as she began to weep.

“I — I didn’t m-mean what I was saying,” she wailed. “H-He’s not a burden. Not once have I ever —”

“Shhh, I know, darling,” he said, stroking her hair. “You were both upset. You both said things that you didn’t really mean.”

“H-He meant it, Harry. I do follow him everywhere, I’m a burden —”

“You’re not,” he insisted. “You love him. So do I, and I’ve been doing the same.”

“Has he — has he yelled at you?” Lottie whimpered. He sighed.

“No, but we spoke about it. I think he’s afraid that if he yells at me, I’ll pack my bags and leave for good. I won’t, obviously, but you’re his sister … I reckon he thinks that he has more wiggle room with you, rightly or wrongly.”

“I just want to help,” said Lottie, and he hated how defeated she sounded. “He doesn’t want to talk and I get that, I really do, so I tried doing other things to at least make it easier around here. I’m out of my depth, Harry …”

“You need to talk to him, Lottie,” he said, softly. “Like, really talk to him and tell him what you told me. Not to make him feel bad, but to try and make him understand what you’re trying to do. To him, he just sees it as you thinking he’s incapable of performing menial tasks.”

“That’s not it at all!”

“ _ I _ know that, but I’m also not the one who’s lost all the power. Christ, Lottie, I shouldn’t even be talking to you, his baby sister, about this, but … he’s so afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“ _ Afraid _ ,” he stressed, giving her a pointed look. “Of … you know …”

It took her a moment before recognition crossed her features. She winced.

“Look,” he said, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, and he’d kill me if he knew we were discussing this, but … it’s hard when you feel like you’re not … you’re not on top, in a manner of speaking.” She nodded. “It’ll get better, he’ll be able to regain that control when he’s ready, but he’s not there yet. It’ll take time before he can get there again and until then, every time he looks over his shoulder and sees one of us there is just a reminder that he’s struggling.”

“Right,” said Lottie, wiping her eyes and sniffing. “You’re right, of course.” She sat up.

“Are you OK?” he asked, worriedly. She smiled weakly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks Harry.” He leant over and kissed the top of her head.

“I should go see how he is —” he began, but Lottie gently grabbed his arm.

“Let me,” she said, standing instead. “I need to apologize, anyways.”

He nodded, and watched as she left the room, knocking on Louis’ door before opening it. Despite himself, he walked back toward the kitchenette, where he was able to hear them speak. He knew that he should not eavesdrop, but justified it by reasoning that if another fight erupted, he would know when to intervene.

“What?” he heard Louis say, sharply. “Come to throw a few more jabs at me?”

“I came to apologize,” said Lottie, softly. Louis grunted. “Lou, I’m sorry. You know you could never be a burden to me or anyone else in our family. We love you so much and we’d do anything for you, even if you’re capable of doing it yourself.”

“Doesn’t feel that way,” he heard Louis vaguely mutter. Lottie sighed.

“It’s hard for us, too. Not like it is for you, obviously, but … but we don’t know how to help you. I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, and I respect that, I do. I figured that helping out around here with everything else, you could at least be able to focus on that without worrying about a million other things.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to focus on that?” Louis replied. He did not say it meanly, but rather with a defeated sort of sigh.

His heart ached, never wanting to hear his boy sound so utterly lost and broken.

“What do you mean?”

“Lots, all of my worst memories and nightmares came to life in there. I know I should deal with it and should seek help, but there’s something to be said for therapy in action.  _ That’s _ why I was working so many shifts before I got sick, besides needing to pay rent. The less I’m sat here on my arse, the less time I have I have to dwell on what I can’t change.”

“I just wanted to help,” she said, weakly. Louis sighed.

“I know, and I’m sorry for losing me temper. It’s been a long couple of weeks and every time I’ve gone to busy myself by doing something, it’s already done. It’s maddening.”

There was silence for a few beats before Louis continued on a slightly different track.

“I  _ want _ to talk to you, Lots. Christ, you were always my closest confidant after mum. Now … you’re my baby sister and she’s my  _ mum _ . It was never like that before with anything, but this … this is just so dark. So ugly.”

“Nothing you say or don’t say to us will drive us away, bro,” she said. “When you were still in the hospital that night that we came, Harry had said that you might not be comfortable talking to me about what happened, and I understand that. If you never want to talk to me about it, then that’s fine, but don’t hold back because you think that I don’t want to hear it or can’t. I’d go in there tomorrow and knock those arseholes out if I could.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Louis, drily. “You talked to Haz about it?” he added, more softly.

He bit his lip. He really should not be listening to their conversation, but he remained glued to where he was standing, straining his ears to hear how Lottie responded next.

“Yeah, he gave me advice. I wasn’t sure how to behave, what to say, what not to say … he — he gave me advice from the perspective of someone else who’s — who was assaulted.”

He thought that he heard Louis’ labored breathing, but perhaps he was imagining it.

“You know — I never —”

“Of course I know that! He clarified that immediately,” Lottie rushed. He definitely heard Louis exhale after that. “Gosh, Louis, I know you’d never do that.”

“But — ehm, y-you talked to him about it?” When she did not immediately respond, he assumed that she had nodded.

“Mostly to give you the opportunity to talk about it if you wanted, but not to take it personally if you couldn’t since you still would see me as your baby sister.”

They were silent for a few moments, and he nearly missed the next part.

“He’s the best.” He swore that his heart skipped a beat.

“Seems like it,” Lottie agreed. “It’s like having another older brother. Thought I had plenty with just you, but I quite like having another,” she teased, and Louis let out a laugh.

“I’m glad you get on so well. Sometimes …”

“What is it, Lou?” she prodded, when he hesitated.

He waited with baited breath.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m going to wake up and it will all be one big dream. Everything past getting out of prison, I mean. Like, I’ll wake up and when he’s not here … I’ll feel like I must’ve imagined it because there’s no way someone as brilliant and wonderful as him could ever be with me. Be  _ in love _ with me after all I did to him.”

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout from the rooftops until he was red in the face that he loved Louis. Loved him despite the problematic circumstances that initially brought them together. Loved him despite Louis insisting that he run away before he gets burned again. He wanted Louis to understand why he loved him, and that despite what happened when he was 17 and Louis was 19, he will never stop loving him for the man that Louis had become.

“You two are perfect for each other, Louis,” Lottie said, finally. “How it started off … it was wrong, but it no longer defines your relationship. It’s been years since then and the relationship has changed. You’ve  _ both _ changed.”

They were silent for a moment before she spoke up again.

“Can I be blunt with you?”

“Do you know how to be any other way?” Louis said, teasingly. Lottie snorted.

“Stop treating Harry like he’s 17.”

“I don’t —”

“Yeah, you do. Not all the time, but in these moments, you do. He’s not 17 and he’s not held here against his will. If he wanted to leave you, Louis — and I don’t think that he ever will — then he  _ would _ . He chooses to be here with you like he chooses to accept the fact that he loves you unconditionally. The sooner you realize that, the happier you’ll both be.”

“You always amaze me, Lots. Thanks.”

“Any time, big bro. Even if you are barely taller than me.”

“OI!”

He let out a cackle and slapped his hand to his mouth. Busted.

Moments later he heard footsteps exit Louis’ bedroom and felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso again.

“You know, you’re not good at the whole eavesdropping thing,” murmured Louis, nudging his nose against his back. He whimpered.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have —”

“Love, I’m not mad. I would’ve talked to you about it later anyway. Thank you for being here and comforting her before,” Louis added. He simply nodded.

“I’ll always be here for you or your family,” he said. He felt Louis smile into his shirt.

“I plan to hold you to that promise.”

 

***

 

“So I just got off the phone with mum,” said Louis. The lad was walking out of his bedroom a couple of weeks later.

“Yeah? How’s she doing? Has Ernest’s ear infection cleared up?” he asked, distractedly. When Louis did not respond, he looked up and saw the other boy staring at him with an unreadable expression. “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah … everything’s fine. I just didn’t realize you talked that much.”

“We Snapchat,” he said, easily, returning to his lyric journal. “She’s fond of the flower crown. I have to say I’m rather partial to the pink kitten ears, though.”

“You trying to make me hard, Styles? Imagining you as soft and pliant?”

“Is it working?” he teased.

“Alarmingly well. Anyway,” Louis continued, clearing his throat. “She invited me to Donny this weekend to see the girls and the not-so baby twins.”

“That’s great!” he said, looking up again. He had known that Johannah was planning on having Louis up north some time, but he was not sure when that would be. He knew how much it would mean to Louis, so he had promised not to mention it before she did. “That’s tomorrow, though! You need to start packing.”

“Ever the observant one,” Louis smiled, fondly. “I was sort of hoping to use the big suitcase, though.”

“Will you be there a while?” he asked. He was not entirely surprised, but he knew that Louis would have to work most of next week to compensate for the time that he missed while he was ill. “I can take in your post while you’re away.”

“Just for a few days, and I already rang Marlene and Jonathan. They said that they would hold onto it for the weekend, no issue,” Louis said, his lip twitching. “I was actually hoping, though, to use the extra room for your clothes.”

“My clothes?”

Louis laughed.

“Unless you’re planning on meeting the rest of my family naked, which from what I heard, would absolutely thrill Doris and Ernest since they run around nude half the time, but —”

“Louis, hold on,” he said, his face splitting into a grin. He tried to ignore his pounding heart. “You’re inviting me to Doncaster to meet your family this weekend?”

“I’m trying not-so-successfully to,” Louis said, suddenly bashful. “That is, if you want to.”

“Of course I want to, you ninny!” He leapt up and in three strides, reached Louis to pull him in for a kiss. Louis immediately responded, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him down closer. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead on Louis’.

“Your mum’s OK with that?” Louis nodded.

“She offered originally and I told her that sounded brilliant. Think she’s proper wooed by you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she slipped you into the will already.”

He laughed, feeling lightheaded and giddy. Then his eyes widened.

“That means  _ I _ have to pack!” he exclaimed, stepping back from Louis. “Don’t even think about distracting me, Tomlinson. I’m well familiar with you and your wicked games. Let’s get moving!” He ran toward the bedroom, where he had some of his belongings, as Louis laughed hard behind him.

 

***

 

“We could’ve taken the train, you know,” pointed out Louis.

They left London around 8:30 a.m. and were on the road to Doncaster with minimal traffic. They were already driving on the M1 for the last two and a half hours, with only about 30 minutes left until they arrived.

“I don’t see why it matters seeing as I’m the one driving,” he snorted.

“I  _ offered _ !”

“Louis, your license expired seven years ago.”

“It’s the thought that counts, though, innit?”

“Yeah, I reckon the coppers have a similar mentality.” He saw Louis roll his eyes out of the corner of his own.

“We can pull over if you’re tired.”

“We’ve got a little over 20 minutes to go. There’s no need to stop.”

“Or if you’re hungry —”

“Your mum is preparing lunch for after we arrive.”

“Maybe we should —”

“Louis,” he said, seriously, effectively silencing the other boy. “What’s going on?”

Louis was silent for a moment, and he glanced over quickly.

“I’m just a bit nervous, I s’pose.”

“What about?”

“The girls are all grown now,” Louis said, softly. “Daisy and Phoebe are  _ teenagers _ . The twins … they’re already little people of their own with personalities and they’ve never met me.”

“They’ll love you,” he said, softly. “They  _ all _ will. They clearly miss you; Lottie said as much when we were at the hospital.”

“What if too much has changed? Too much time has gone by?”

“Then you’ll put on a smile no matter how much it hurts and try to rebuild a relationship with them. No matter how long it takes because you’re their big brother and they love you despite anything that may have happened.”

“Sometimes I think you’re the older one in this relationship.”

He blinked, looking over at Louis in surprise. Louis seemed to realize what he said, too.

“I — I mean —”

“Someone has to be,” he said, with a smile. “The older one in the relationship, I mean.”

He reached out and took Louis’ hand in his own. Keeping his eyes on the road, he kissed Louis’ knuckles gently.

“The following question may seem a bit redundant, Lou, but will you —?”

“Yes,” said Louis, and he laughed.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”

“I trust that you’re not asking me to shave my head, but if you must finish, go on.”

“Louis, will you buy a possum with me?”

“You tosser! Quit it!” Louis laughed. “You’re lucky we’re in a car or I’d smack you.”

Harry grinned, feeling like his cheeks were going to crack from pure happiness.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Lou?”

“Yes, you goof.” He smiled, if possible, wider when Louis leaned to his right to kiss his cheek. He squeezed Louis’ hand a little tighter.

“You know,” Louis said after a few comfortable moments of silence. “Now that we’re in a committed relationship, I feel that I should tell you that I give excellent road head.”

He guffawed.

“I’ll store that one away for future use,” he said, keeping his eyes trained ahead. “None of that funny business, now, though. Can’t well look fucked out when I meet your family, proper.”

“So does that mean I won’t be able to fuck you in my childhood bed this weekend?”

His eyes widened, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

“You —?”

“I brought everything … if you want. I’m ready, Haz. I won’t push it if you’re not, though.”

“I …”

Was he ready? He and Louis had fooled around some in the last few weeks, but they had not slept together officially since … Christ, since they were  _ children _ . He had expected that he would be the one topping as well when they did sleep together again. He had not imagined that Louis would feel ready so quickly. He …

“Stay with me, Haz. Breathe,” he heard Louis say, panicked. “Do you need to pull over?”

“N-No, I’m fine. I’m good.” He was. He was OK. He has gotten better at managing and preventing potential anxiety attacks, which is good considering he is currently driving.

“What’s on your mind?” Louis asked, softly.

“I want to sleep with you,” he said, abruptly. To Louis’ credit, he did not laugh at his candor. “I do, I really do. I’m just not sure … I don’t know if I’m ready for …”

“For me to top?” Louis supplied. He nodded, feeling ashamed. “I’m not mad or upset, Haz. I know I’m springing it on you. We don’t have to do anything we’re not both comfortable with doing. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something that you’re not ready for.”

“I’m sorry,” he moaned. “I feel like I’m letting you down.”

“You  _ haven’t _ let me down,” insisted Louis. “Haz, pull to the side for a moment.”

“Lou —”

“Please?”

He did as Louis asked, and once he was in park, looked over at Louis shyly.

“The only time I could  _ ever _ feel let down is if you felt that you couldn’t be honest with me,” said Louis, taking both of his hands in his own. “If we’re going to be in a relationship and in it for the long run — and I have every intention to be — I’m going to need you to be honest with me, like you expect me to be with you. Including when you’re apprehensive or uncomfortable.”

“What if I’m never ready? What if I’m always scared?”

“Then I’m going to have a lot of practice riding that beautiful cock of yours,” said Louis, smiling, and he felt himself relax. “I’ll also accept that just because you’re scared of the disease, it doesn’t mean that you’re scared of me. My lovely boyfriend has helped me learn how to separate the two.”

“Is this lovely boyfriend of yours well hung as well?”

Louis quirked an eyebrow.

“He likes to think so, yes.” He smacked Louis gently. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a breath. “You?” Louis nodded. “We should continue on, then. Your mum is probably watching the clock religiously.”

“Sometimes I wonder if  _ you’re _ her son.”

 

***

 

They arrived at Louis’ family’s home not long after and as they pulled into the driveway, were greeted with what felt like an entire side of the family. As Harry popped the boot, he let Louis go ahead first to get briefly reacquainted while he dealt with the luggage.

“Need some help, mate?”

He looked up and saw who he assumed must be Dan, Louis’ stepdad.

“Thanks,” he said with a nod. Together, they lifted the suitcase out of the car, which Louis had managed to pack to the brim with about half a dozen different types of outfits for different seasons. He had simply nodded and allowed Louis to tear apart the closet in the process, vowing to rearrange it when they returned from their weekend away.

“‘M Harry,” he said, extending a hand after brushing his fringe. “You must be Dan.”

“Yeah, pleasure to meet you, Harry,” Dan replied, shaking his hand. “Glad you both could come. Jay’s been a right nutter tidying, but I know that she’s thrilled you’re both here. So am I.”

He smiled at Dan. He seemed like a nice enough bloke, and he had visited Louis while he was still locked up to show him photos of the babies, so he could not be bad.

“Thank you for having me,” he finally said. “I’m looking forward to meeting the others as well. Lots is the greatest and reminds me so much of Lou.”

“Yeah, she’s a spitfire. Come on, let’s join the others.”

As they walked around the car, they saw a few of them still standing on the front porch. The older girls must have gone inside to finish preparing lunch. Meanwhile, Louis was squating, talking to what must be Doris and Ernest, possibly the cutest little kids he had ever seen.

Doris had fiery red hair, not unlike Orphan Annie. It was curly, too, much like his own. She was talking with her hands, gesticulating as she answered a question that Louis must have asked her. He could already see Louis’ personality in her and could tell by the look in Louis’ eyes that they would get on quite well.

Ernest, on the other hand, was more reserved. He had long, golden blond hair that was not quite as curly as his sister’s, but fell in soft ringlets. He was clutching onto his mother’s trousers, set back slightly behind Doris, with a more apprehensive aura about him. Again, Harry saw qualities of Louis in Ernest; how Louis got when he felt threatened or is put in an unfamiliar situation. He was not standoffish, but he was also not as boisterous as his sister.

As he and Dan approached, the conversation came to a halt as the two twins looked up at the other stranger who had come along with their brother.

“Hiya!” said Doris, and he grinned.

“Hi,” he said, crouching down like Louis had done. “I’m Harry.”

“That’s a funny name,” Doris giggled.

“That’s not nice to say to someone, Doris,” Johannah scolded. He just smiled at Doris.

“I don’t mind,” he said, easily. “I am quite  _ hairy _ after all.” He stuck his hair out at odd angles, making a funny face, which made Doris erupt in more giggles.

“You’ve got curly hair like me!” she said, and he nodded solemnly.

“I know,” he said, seriously. “Your sisters don’t, though, so we’re going to have to stick together. You’ll be on our side, too, won’t you, Ernest?” he added, to the little boy, staring at him.

After a moment’s deliberation, Ernest nodded.

“Yeah, Team Curly!”

Everyone laughed and when Harry looked up, he saw Louis smiling fondly at him. He returned the smile before standing upright again.

“Thanks for inviting me as well, Johannah,” he said, pulling her in for a hug.

“You’re quite welcome, dear. You’re part of our not-so-little family,” she smiled. “I reckon you can call me, Jay now if you like.” He smiled.

“Harr-ee, come in and meet my sisters!” squealed Doris, accentuating the end of his name. She gripped onto his hand and started dragging him along.

“I got the luggage,” laughed Louis. “Go on.”

He laughed as well, allowing himself to be guided by the red head.

The inside of the house was as warm and welcoming as the inside. It was neat, but with an atmosphere of being lived in, which he loved. There were toys and books organized in the corner, but spilling over in certain areas. There were also different containers of beauty products scattered around the house, which he was certain must belong to the older girls if they were anything like Lottie with an interest in makeup.

“Loootttiee!” drew out Doris. “Come meet Harr-eee!”

“We met, poppet,” Lottie laughed. “I’ve lived with him and Lou for the last few weeks. I told you that when I arrived a couple of days ago!”

“Did you know that we both have curly hair? Us and Ernest are in a club now!”

“Are you?” said Lottie, grinning. “Can I join?”

“No,” said Doris, seriously. “Not unless you curl your hair.”

“That sounds fair,” nodded Lottie, doing her best to keep a straight face. “Come on, let’s introduce Harry to Fizzy, Dais, and Pheebs.”

They continued to lead him further into the house until he was in the kitchen. The smell of sandwiches and pasta salad filled his nostrils, making him realize just how hungry he was for lunch. Redirecting his attention, though, he focused on the new group of faces in the room.

His eyes first landed on presumably Félicité, who he knew to be 19-years-old. She was, quite honestly, beautiful, much like all of the Tomlinson-Deakins. She wore a light coating of makeup and had long, chestnut brown hair that was tied up into a sleek ponytail. Unlike Lottie, she resembled her mother’s pear figure, as well as strongly resembling her facial features.

He then focused on Daisy and Phoebe, who were identical in seemingly every way other than their haircuts. They both had hair that was light brown, and identical blue eyes like their other siblings, but one’s was shoulder-length, while the other’s ended at her elbows.

“Hi Harry, I’m Félicité, but everyone calls me, Fizzy,” said Félicité, smiling at him.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, returning the smile. “You must be Daisy and Phoebe, then?”

“That’s right,” said the one with shorter hair. “I’m Daisy and this is Phoebe,” she said, pointing to her twin. “Shouldn’t be too hard since I just got a haircut.” Phoebe snorted.

“Nice to meet you both,” he repeated, genuinely. “You must be what, 15?”

“Yeah,” said Phoebe.

They fell into a silence, which he was not exactly surprised by, but he was unsure of how to handle. He looked around at Lottie for help, but she must have disappeared to help her mother with something during introductions. He felt a tug on his trousers and looked down, remembering that he was still holding Doris’ hand.

“Why are you scared?” she asked, point-blank. He let out a breathy laugh, releasing some of the tension in the room. He had to appreciate the lack of a filter 6-year-olds possess.

“I wouldn’t say I’m scared. Sometimes adults just get nervous when they meet new people,” he said, honestly. “It’s not a bad thing. It just takes time.”

“Louis seemed nervous.”

He caught the older girls exchanging glances when Doris said that. He looked back at Doris, crouching down again so that he could be at her eye-level.

“Yeah, I reckon he was a bit nervous, but don’t tell him that I told you that!” he mock-whispered. Doris giggled. “Did you know that red is my favorite color?”

“That’s the color of my hair!” He gasped.

“You’re right!” he exclaimed. “Can I have it?”

“No!” she squealed, running away from him. “My hair!”

He took off after her, letting her keep ahead for a while before overtaking her. He swept her off the ground, swinging her around as she laughed hysterically.

“I like you, Harr-ee,” she said, when he placed her on his shoulders.

“Yeah?” he said, his insides feeling warm. “I like you, too, Doris.”

“Are you my brother’s boyfriend?” she asked, suddenly. He grinned.

“I am,” he asserted.

“That’s good,” she said, mildly. “Maybe you can help each other be less nervous.”

“I’d like that,” he said, smiling up at her, as they walked back to the table.

“Doris, dear, you have to get off of Harry’s shoulders so that you can both eat,” said Dan.

“But daddy, can’t I eat up here?”

“You’re not a giraffe, darling,” laughed Jay. “Go on, then. Let daddy help you down.”

Doris let out a dramatic sigh, causing the rest of them to laugh as Dan helped her down.

“We’ll continue this later,” he said, winking at her. She grinned cheekily up at him.

“How’re you doing, love?” he asked Louis, sitting down next to him. Louis smiled slightly.

“I’m all right,” Louis replied, and he looked closer.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, lowly. Louis just shook his head.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

He did not press the issue, but he kept it stored away to return to later. Instead, he redirected his attention to Jay, but not before taking Louis’ hand in his own.

“Everything looks lovely, Jay,” he said, warmly. She beamed at him.

“Thank you, dear. All right, gang. Start serving yourself!”

 

***

 

Lunch passed uneventfully, conversation flowing easily. Félicité was at Uni studying anthropology with a focus in women’s gender studies. He also learned that she had her own YouTube channel where she discussed current topics, which he promised he would subscribe to later that evening when he got the chance. She was especially interested when he mentioned that he had attended the Women’s March in Trafalgar Square two years prior with Gemma.

“You and Gemma would get on quite well,” he said to her. “She’s a freelance writer and focuses a lot on social issues in her writing. I could connect you if you like?”

“Yeah, that’d be brilliant!” she said, eagerly. “Did you really participate in the march? Mum wouldn’t let me go,” she said with a note of bitterness.

He nodded.

“Yeah, but your mother was right. It was peaceful and all, but incredibly overwhelming. I lost Gem a few times and she’s not a big crowd person. It’s something you should do when you’re a bit older and definitely when you’re familiar with the city.”

He also learned about Daisy and Phoebe. They were still in school and in the midst of their GCSEs, so they admitted that they were pretty strung out most of the time. Like Lottie, they were fascinated in beauty products and loved practicing new techniques on each other.

“Do you use any face products, Harry?” Daisy asked. “Your face is actually perfect for contouring. You’ve got perfect cheekbones.”

He flushed.

“I’ve never tried. Just some nail polish now and again. I was Gemma’s lab rat when we were kids, though. She once got so mad at me for stealing one of her brushes that she chopped off a chunk of my hair while I was sleeping.”

“No!” gasped Phoebe, laughing along with the others.

“Yes,” he said, shaking his head at the memory. “Mum was furious. Said she was going to take all her beauty products away and Gems was distraught. Felt so bad for her, I told mum that I had stolen Gemma’s scissors and tried to give myself a haircut.”

“How old were you?” laughed Lottie.

“Old enough to refuse to go to school until we went to the hairdresser so that we could fix it. My mate Niall laughed at me for a week straight when I came in with a crew-cut.”

“Will you let us contour on you later?” Phoebe asked. “We’ll wipe it all off after.”

“I don’t see why not. We’ll just have to make sure to send Gemma a photo. She’ll be amazed at how easily I caved when she used to have to practically tie me down.”

Throughout these conversations, he was painfully aware of how silent Louis was while he was monopolizing the conversation. He did not want to bring it to everyone’s attention, but this weekend was Louis’ time to get reacquainted with his siblings. He did not want to take that away from him, and he could tell that Louis was stressed with every passing moment, though he was putting on a contrived smile that could not fool him.

“You’re writing a new album, aren’t you, Harry?” asked Daisy. “I bought your last one!”

“You did?” said Louis, speaking up for the first time in a while. Daisy nodded.

“Yeah, everyone at school was talking about it!” she said, enthusiastically.

“Well, thanks for buying it,” he said, sincerely. “It would’ve been embarrassing if I was the only one who got a copy.” Daisy and Phoebe both giggled.

“When’s your next one coming out?” they asked together.

“We haven’t set a date yet. I’m taking a bit more time to write this one.” They nodded, somewhat disappointedly. “Do you have a favorite song off of the last one?”

“I like ‘Sweet Creature,’” said Phoebe immediately.

He smiled, stroking Louis’ hand with his palm.

“Lou likes that one, too,” he said, smiling at him. Louis smiled back, but he could see that it did not quite reach his eyes.

“I like ‘Stockholm Syndrome,’” chirped Daisy, and the entire table fell silent.

He bit his lip, glancing surreptitiously at Louis whose face was blank.

“Daisy,” hissed Jay, and Daisy’s eyes widened.

“I’m —”

“It’s fine,” said Louis shortly. “It’s a good song.”

“You’ve listened to it?” he said, uncertainly. Louis nodded tersely.

“Once or twice. Heard it a couple of times on the radio.”

He was looking for a way, any way, to change the current path of conversation.

“Are you feeling all right, darling?” asked Jay, suddenly to Louis. “You look a bit peaky.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry, mum,” he said, his voice weak.

“Are you feeling better, Lou?” Phoebe asked, suddenly. “Mum said that you were in the hospital with a bout of flu recently.”

Louis’ fork clattered to the plate and he looked directly at Jay, who looked alarmed.

“Louis —”

“The  _ flu _ ?” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“Louis, I —”

“Excuse me,” said Louis, standing up abruptly. He put his napkin on the table and walked off of the back patio and into the house, leaving a silent table in his wake.

“Did I say something wrong?” said Phoebe, scared. Lottie turned to her.

“It’s not your fault, Pheebs,” she said, giving their mother a frustrated look.

“Don’t look at me like that, Charlotte. You know it’s not my place to tell.”

He could see that Lottie was about to retort, but to his surprise, Félicité interjected.

“Whose was it, then?” she snapped. “Was he supposed to throw it into conversation while he was passing the rolls? Or should he have monogrammed it onto his jumper so that it could spare you the discomfort?”

“You told her?” Jay said to Lottie, furiously.

“Of course she told me!” said Félicité, once again before Lottie could respond. “I’m 19, not 9, mum!”

“Félicité Grace Tomlinson —”

“Mummy, is Louis sick?” Doris asked.

He closed his eyes, standing up suddenly.

“I should go check on him,” he said, putting his napkin down next to Louis’. He walked inside before he had a chance to hear the response to Doris’ question.

He was not sure where to look for Louis and he was still unfamiliar with the house. Deciding Louis was probably not in the den, he began walking up the stairs. There were photos along the wall of the girls growing up, as well as photos of Louis as a baby, toddler and then adolescent. They stop around the age Harry would have met him, though, and he will focus on the photos themselves later, but right now, he needs to find Louis and make sure that he’s OK.

He heard a whimper and veered right to what he realized was the bathroom. Knocking on the door that was already cracked open, he pushed it wider and saw Louis kneeling next to the toilet sniffling. Without question, he got down onto the floor next to Louis and gathered the crying boy into his arms. Thankfully, Louis did not resist, and he began to card his fingers through the soft, feathery hair.

“Were you sick?” he asked Louis, sighing when Louis nodded. “Have you felt ill today?”

“N-No,” replied Louis, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. “I was fine, I promise. Then … I don’t know, I think the anxiety caught up with me as we were sitting down to lunch.”

“What was making you anxious?” he asked, softly. Louis sniffled.

“They like you so much, Haz, and I’m thrilled that they do. Nothing makes me happier than imagining a future where you’re a part of my family. Right now, I don’t know where I fit into it, though. I couldn’t help feeling that they prefer you to me.”

“You know that’s not true,” he said. Louis nodded after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s not, Lou. It’s just easier with me; they don’t know me. You have history with them and you need to get to know each other again.” He bit his lip. “This weekend probably wasn’t the best time for me to come and meet them. It’s a lot all at once.”

“No, I’m glad you’re here,” insisted Louis, wiping his eyes. “How am I going to face them, though? All this time I thought that they knew I was Positive … I thought they accepted it …”

“You don’t know that they won’t,” he said, gently. “For one, Félicité knows that you are. Lottie already told her.”

“Yeah?” He nodded. “But she didn’t tell the others?”

“I reckon they were expecting Jay to tell them before you arrived. I don’t know, Lou.”

“I’m such a mess,” Louis sniffed, wiping his face again.

He shook his head.

“You’re not,” he said. “You’re a bit wound up, but it’s understandable. Why don’t you run some cool water over your face and then we can go back downstairs and finish eating?”

“I can’t face them again right now,” said Louis, shaking his head. “I think that I should go lie down for a bit. Try to calm down.” He nodded in understanding.

“OK, but I’m going to bring you some food. You have to eat, you hear me?”

Louis sighed, but nodded. Louis allowed him to help him stand up and ran some water over his face before wiping it off and exiting the bathroom.

“My room is the one at the end of the corridor,” Louis said, grabbing hold of his hand.

He led them down toward it, pushing open the door once they reached it. Inside, it was exactly how he would imagine Louis’ room to look. Football posters were on practically every available inch of wall and about half a dozen different footballs were littered across the floor. Amongst them were old memorabilia from school, including a few trophies and an old kit.

“See mum has left it as a shrine of sorts,” he said, bitingly.

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to disturb it,” he offered, and Louis hummed.

“Yeah, there’s a lot that she can’t be bothered by.”

He shook his head at Louis.

“I know you’re mad at her, but you shouldn’t talk like you don’t love her to death,” he said. “It’s not fair to either one of you. You knew going in that it was going to be difficult.”

Louis nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. Louis began organizing some of his belongings while he stood there, looking around at the room that Louis had grown up inside.

“It was bad enough telling Lottie and she’s a grown woman,” Louis finally said, sitting down on his bed and motioning for him to join. He did, sitting next to Louis and staring at him. “How do you tell that to two 15-year-olds? Do I tell the twins, too? Do you tell that sort of thing to 6-year-olds?”

He shook his head.

“Not the gory details. Not yet. Maybe Daisy and Phoebe separately, but just because they’re older and they’re going to have to learn how to protect themselves if they haven’t had to already. It’s unfortunate, but it’s life.” Louis nodded. “I think they ought to know. They should know that it isn’t a death sentence and it doesn’t define you, no matter what they might have heard one way or another.”

“Do they even teach this sort of thing in school?” Louis asked, and he shrugged.

“If they did, not enough that it was particularly memorable for me,” he said, honestly. “Most things aren’t, though, until it affects you or someone that you love.”

Louis squeezed his hand and he took that as a sign of appreciation.

“Tonight?” he suggested. “I can go back down and fix you another plate; something light. Then I’ll tell the girls to come up here later.”

Louis nodded, resembling a bobblehead. He laid back down with his head on his pillow.

“I’m sorry for the chaos,” Louis said, his gaze focused on the ceiling. “I’d say it isn’t normal around here, but I’m not in the business of lying to you.”

He laughed lightly, kissing Louis on the lips.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

***

 

"Is he OK?" Jay asked immediately when he returned downstairs. The others were all in the room, sans Doris and Ernest who were playing in the den. They looked at him expectantly, with worried faces.

"He's upset," he replied, honestly, "and blindsided."

Jay sunk down into a chair and Dan put his hands on her shoulders.

"Is Louis really ill?" Daisy asked, fearfully.

He did not want to lie to her and tell her that Louis was going to be fine because even though he was fine now, he might not always be that way. He knew that, Louis knew that, but it was a lot to tell children that and expect them to handle it when they're just being reintroduced to their brother for the first time in years.

"No, he's not ill," he replied, finally. "He would like to talk to you all later once he's rested a bit. I told him that I'd come down to fix him a plate so that he could eat."

"Was he sick?" said Jay, standing abruptly.

"Just anxiety," he said, answering her actual question. "Jay, can I speak to you outside for a minute?"

"I'll fix him something," said Lottie, helpfully. He smiled gratefully at her and then walked outside, Jay trailing behind him.

Their backyard was beautiful. There was a treeset for the young ones, as well as a trampoline that he was sure got a lot of use. He turned his gaze to focus on Jay again.

"He wants to talk to them later about being Positive," he said, lowly. "All of them."

Jay blanched.

"Doris and —? They’re  _ babies _ , Harry."

"He's not going to tell Doris or Ernest how it happened. He should explain HIV to them, though. If they're going to be a part of his life, they need to know, no matter how young. It affects them and the younger they're taught, the less likely they are to grow up with misconceptions."

"I don't know, Harry …"

"All due respect, Jay, he didn't come here this weekend thinking that he was going to have to have the conversation with them. He thought that everyone already knew and was OK with it. Daisy and Phoebe … he was already nervous about telling Lottie and she's an adult. He has no idea if the other two will even want to look at him."

"Of course they will! They'll accept him and love him just the same."

He was silent for a moment, calculating her.

"Jay, you know as well as I do that accepting and loving someone doesn't mean that you understand them. It doesn't mean that you won't hurt them with your own ignorance no matter what you may believe or say to the contrary. He shouldn't have to worry about being 'accepted' for something that he had absolutely no control over."

"He had control over whether or not he kidnapped you and ended up in that prison."

He felt his insides twist at her words.

"I hope you're not implying that he deserved what happened because if you are …"

"I'm not!" she insisted. "He did have a choice in breaking the law, though, Harry! You can't possibly defend that!"

"I never have and I never would. Neither would Louis." He paused. "I think Lottie put it best, though, when she said that it's time we stop treating Louis and I like we're both still 19 and 17. The past is the past and I'm in love with the man that Louis is now more than I imagined I could ever love someone. I think that's what matters most, don't you?"

Jay nodded, remaining silent. Clearly, his words had an effect on her.

"I should go back upstairs and make sure he's doing OK," he said, finally. "Thank you again for lunch."

He walked back inside, thanking Lottie as he took the proffered plate, and walked upstairs to Louis' room.

 

***

 

"I come bearing munchkins," he said later that evening.

Louis had slept through dinner, insisting that he was worn out from traveling, and he let Louis think that he believed the fib. However, now he was joined by Lottie, Félicité, Daisy and Phoebe, as well as Doris on his shoulders and, after some coaxing, Ernest holding his hand.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm not a munchkin," said Ernest, softly.

He grinned down at Ernest.

"A peanut, then?" Ernest shook his head. "A little boy?"

"Yes, that's me," Ernest said, proudly.

He laughed, crouching down so that Doris could hop off. She scrambled up to Louis' bed along with her twin brother. Both cuddled up to Louis immediately, which warmed his heart and he could see just how much that meant to Louis as well.

"You know, I always wanted a brother when I was living in a house full of girls," Louis whispered to Ernest, conspiratorially. "Do you reckon we can form an alliance?"

"He's already in mine and Harr-ee's Curly Hair Club!" protested Doris.

Ernest crossed his arms.

"I can be in more than one club, thank you, Doris," Ernest said.

Doris' lip began to tremble, but Louis was quick to console her.

"You like footy, don't you, Doris?" She nodded. "That can be our special club, too."

She grinned.

"Louis and I have a club now, too!" she boasted.

"Excuse me, Doris, I don't like that tone," Ernest said, unimpressed.

She opened her mouth to retort when he interjected.

"Alright, now that we're all part of a club with Louis, I think it's time we sit down and let him talk."

The others chuckled and gathered around Louis' bed, opting for the floor. He sat down on Félicité's right and Phoebe's left.

"Right," said Louis, clearing his throat. "Ehm — I guess I should start by saying that I wasn't in the hospital because of the flu."

The others looked at him expectantly and Louis looked to him for guidance. He nodded encouragingly, so Louis continued.

"I was in there because I had a near fatal reaction to some meds the doctors put me on not too long before that."

"Meds?" said Phoebe with wide eyes. "Harry said that you were fine!"

"I am fine," he insisted. "The meds … the correct combination of meds keep me fine."

"What are they for?" Daisy asked, chewing on her hair. Lottie gently pulled it out of her mouth and she settled for picking at the rug.

"They're meds for HIV."

The room was silent and he watched their reactions. Lottie and Félicité already knew, but they still looked heartbroken. Likewise, Daisy and Phoebe looked devastated, their eyes welling up. He wrapped an arm around Phoebe's shoulder, Lottie doing the same for Daisy.

"I'm sure you have questions, and I want to answer them the best that I can, so —"

Doris raised her hand. Louis smiled slightly.

"Yes, love?"

"What's HIV?"

Louis let out a breath.

"Fair question. HIV is a virus that if it spreads, can destroy the cells in your body that fight infections —"

"Like Ernie's ear infection?"

Louis smiled at her.

"Like that, yeah. The difference is that Ernest had no problem getting better. HIV can prevent me from healing. Do you understand?"

"I think so," said Doris. She still had a puzzled look on her face, as did Ernest.

“How do you get it?” Ernest asked after a moment. “Is it like a cold?”

Louis bit his lip, clearly looking for the right words.

“No, it’s not that easy to get,” Louis finally said. “It requires direct contact between the fluids of two people, one being infected. Ehm — so even if I had a cut right now, and bled on the bed, it wouldn’t be dangerous unless someone else was bleeding also.”

The others seemed to relax slightly at that knowledge.

"Does that mean you have AIDS?" asked Daisy. Louis shook his head rapidly.

"No, I don't."

"What's AIDS?" piped up Ernest.

"AIDS is the last part of HIV," Louis explained. "When you have AIDS that means that your immune system is so poor that you can get any number of illnesses. Like if your organs stop working properly. HIV and AIDS are not the same, though. Right now, I'm healthy thanks to the medicine that I'm taking, and I intend to stay that way." He held the twins closer.

"You said, though, that the medicine is what put you in the hospital before?" Félicité asked. Louis nodded.

"It was causing me liver damage. Thankfully, my neighbors were able to call for help when I was unconscious. They took me off the medicine immediately."

"It sounds scary," said Doris, and Louis kissed her forehead.

"It is," he said, honestly. "It's not the end, though. People live long, long lives while being HIV Positive. I intend to do the same."

"We love you, Louis. You know that, right?" said Félicité, the others nodding along. "Nothing has changed."

Louis smiled tightly, and he knew what was on his mind right now.

"Hey, Doris and Ernest," he said, getting their attention. "Do you think you can go and play in the den? You can tell your mum that we'll be downstairs in a little while."

"OK!" they both said, excitement regained.

They each kissed Louis on the cheek and then ran out the door. Louis exhaled.

"How did it happen?" Daisy asked, finally.

Louis looked between her and Phoebe. He then looked down at Félicité who had grabbed his hand, holding on in support.

"I was raped in prison."

He waited for either girl to respond. As was expected, they were speechless.

"Raped," said Phoebe, testing the word. "When you kidnapped Harry, did you rape him?"

" _ Phoebe _ ," gasped Lottie and Félicité. Even Daisy looked appalled.

"No," he said so that Louis would not have to justify the question with a response.

Phoebe shrugged.

"I had to ask, didn't I? We heard the news even when mum kept it off. Anything we didn't hear there, we only heard from our classmates."

"Your classmates don't know shit," said Lottie. "You should have told us that they were saying such vile things."

"Yeah, because this house was such an open environment for talking about any of that," said Daisy, finally speaking up. "It took us  _ how long _ again to finally see Louis?"

"Is this why? Because you're Positive or because you were raped?" Phoebe asked.

"You'd have to ask mum. I couldn't say for sure," said Louis, his voice stiff. Not good.

"Maybe we should call it a night —" he began, but Daisy cut him off.

"Did you fight back?" she asked. "Did it happen more than once?"

"That's neither here nor there, Daisy," said Félicité, her eyes flashing. "Louis was the one attacked, and your questions are implying that he's in any way to blame for what happened."

"They're always saying that there are ways to prevent it," argued Daisy. "I'm not saying he asked for it, but —"

"Would you be asking any of these questions if it were one of us?" Félicité countered. "Just because he's a guy doesn't mean that he could fight off someone if he attacked him. Struggling may have cost him his life."

"He's also gay —"

"So?" said Lottie, outraged. "You think that because he likes dick he would be OK with it being forced on him any more than we would?"

"It happened more than once and I stopped fighting back," said Louis, dully. "There were too many of them and I — I just shut down."

He could see that Louis was doing the same thing right now, and clearly, so could Lottie.

"That's enough for tonight," he said, motioning to Lottie, who also stood.

"My room," she said, corralling the other three before anyone could say anything else to Louis. She closed the door behind her, leaving just the two of them in the room.

Louis looked at him.

"They think that I asked for it."

"They're uneducated," he replied. "What they said wasn't right, but they have to learn and after tonight, I don't think Lottie or Félicité will let them get by without doing just that.”

"Is that how everyone's going to see me, Haz?" Louis asked, his voice cracking. "As the fag who likes it up the ass and let them have their way with me?"

He crawled beside Louis, holding him close as the other boy let out a shuddering breath.

"Anyone who thinks that is beyond fucked," he said, harshly. "Your sisters need to realize that not everything they read on the internet is true. People are cruel and don't understand a lot of things. They definitely don't understand what you experienced. The helplessness, the terror."

“I’m so scared, Harry,” Louis exhaled. “I’m so scared all the time, and I don’t know how to stop it. I always thought the scariest thing I would have to do was come out to my family, but this … I never imagined …”

“You never should have to,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m sorry you’re so scared, Louis. If I can do more to help alleviate that, please tell me. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“You being here is more than anything,” Louis whispered. “I love you, Haz.”

“I love you, too, Lou.”

 

***

 

They fell asleep in the same position that evening, but he still slept fitfully despite Louis’ motionless form in his arms. He stared at the ceiling that evening, thinking about the events of the day. He never imagined that it would be such a difficult transition for Louis, but he supposed that was naive. Louis’ sisters were teenagers, and of course they heard things from the perspectives of teenagers as well. It’s not to say that every teenager is ignorant, but when you hear things spoken about a certain way, you believe them until you are properly educated and someone corrects you. If anything, their school and the rest of society is largely to blame.

His ears perk up when he hears voices outside of their doorway. Flitting his eyes to the clock, he sees that it’s now 11 p.m. They have only slept for about 3 hours, and he is certain that he will not be getting much more sleep tonight. Their lights are off, so he does not think that the people outside will come in, and instead tries to hear what they are saying.

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell them,” said what he recognized as Jay’s voice. “Now he’s upset and won’t come out of the room!”

“That is exactly why you  _ should have _ told them,” snarled who he recognized as Félicité. “How are we expected to educate them if we don’t know how naive they actually are? How could you possibly think after what happened that you were right to keep this from them?”

“They’re hurting …” whispered Jay. “They just got back their brother and learned that he’s ill and don’t know how to handle that.”

“He’s not ill,” came a third voice; Lottie’s. “It’s them hearing you say that, that makes them think incorrectly. It’s not like when you were our age, mum. It’s better now.”

“It’s still unfamiliar for them —” Jay said, weakly.

“So familiarize them with it!” said Félicité. “For Heaven’s sake, you’ve worked alongside patients your entire adult life. You should be the one telling them that, not  _ us _ .”

“I know …” choked out Jay. “I just … I hate seeing him hurting.”

“News flash, mum; he’s hurting,” said Félicité, not unkindly, “and it’s because Daisy and Phoebe are treating him like he asked for what happened in prison and you won’t discourage it.”

There was silence, and he waited with baited breath.

“I’ll go in there and talk to them,” said Jay, finally. “You’re right … of course you’re right. I’ll make sure that they apologize to him in the morning.”

“Not just him,” said Lottie. “Harry, too.”

“Harry —?” Félicité began.

He felt his chest tighten.

“He deserves an apology as well,” said Lottie simply, and he relaxed slightly. “What hurts Louis hurts him, too.”

There was silence and then the sound of footsteps, so he could only assume that the others went their separate ways and ended their conversation. He was about to drift off again when he felt something wet on his chest. It took him only a moment of confusion to realize what it was coming from the boy in his arms.

“Were you awake the entire time?” he croaked. He felt Louis nod. “Lou …”

“I’m fine, Haz. Don’t mind me.” He kissed the top of Louis’ head.

“I’ll always mind you,” he said, gently. “Try to get some sleep, Lou. It’ll …” he trailed off.

“All get better in the morning?” Louis finished, sardonically.

He sighed.

“It’ll all improve in time,” he amended.

Louis did not say anything more after that, and he could hear Louis’ breathing steady, meaning that he had fallen back to sleep. He laid there for what felt like the span of four nights before he was confident that he could get up and stretch without disturbing Louis. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was now 1 a.m. Brilliant.

He tiptoed out of Louis’ room, careful to close the door gently behind him, and walked down the stairs. He walked over to his coat that was hanging on the rack by the back door, and grabbed himself a carton and his lighter before opening the back door and stepping outside.

The night air was cool, but he ignored it as he lit up and took a puff, exhaling his woes.

“You trying to outrace Louis to the finish line?”

He startled, spinning around to see Félicité sitting at the table, a cuppa in her hand. She was appraising him over it as she took a long sip. He took another drag.

“It’s a habit I’ve had for a while,” he said, slowly. “It’s become less frequent, only when I’m truly stressed and feel like things are out of my hands.”

“Like tonight,” Félicité supplied unnecessarily. He blew out the smoke. “How does Louis feel about it?”

“He’s not a fan, but he doesn’t make it a point to articulate it often,” he replied.

“Maybe he should. I don’t think he’d much like to outlive you.”

“You think I would prefer it the other way around?” he asked, sharply.

“No, I reckon not.”

“Sorry,” he groaned, running his hand through his hair. He then remembered the time. “What are you still doing awake, anyway? It’s nearing 2 a.m.”

“Insomniac,” she replied, followed by another sip. “You?”

“Worrier.” She nodded.

“Did we wake you earlier?”

“That would imply that I was sleeping for long enough to be woken,” he said, drily.

“Did we wake —?” she trailed off. He just took another puff.

“He was asleep last I left,” he said, not answering her question.

“I’m really sorry for earlier, Harry,” she said eventually, as he stubbed out his cigarette.

He was tempted to reach for another, but thought better of it. Instead, he sat down beside Félicité, looking at the broad expanse of the dark backyard.

“Thank you,” he said. “You can ask.”

“Ask what?”

“The question that Lottie wouldn’t answer earlier out of respect for my privacy.”

Félicité focused on her now empty cup. She shook her head.

“You don’t owe me any answers or explanations, Harry. I don’t expect them either.”

He looked at her quizzically before it clicked into place. She was not comfortable asking it, even though he already assured them that Louis never did anything to him.

“It’s just a word,” he said, lowly. “A word that implies something awful, but I spent too long not talking about it and gave it the power to silence me.”

She nodded.

“You were raped?” He nodded. “When?”

“After I left Louis, they put me in an institution,” he said. “One of the orderlies.”

“Shit,” she breathed. “How did you —? What did you —?”

“I don’t think I would’ve survived if it weren’t for Louis. When he was brought in because he was wandering London looking for me, we shared a wall. He didn’t know it because I didn’t want him to know that I ended up there. The orderly came in one night and said my name while he was doing it and Louis started … screaming. If not, I definitely wouldn’t have survived.”

He jolted slightly when he felt Félicité’s hand cover his own on the table. He tried to smile weakly at her, but he had a feeling that it came out more as a grimace.

“I completely shut down while it was happening,” he continued. “I tried struggling and screaming the first time, but it would just make him angrier. That … that was an awful time for me. I had a lot of anger and was completely mute for quite some time after that.”

“I’m so sorry that you went through that, Harry,” she said, sincerely. “I — I’m sorry for this evening as well. Lottie and I … we had no idea that Daisy and Phoebe would behave like that.”

“How could you know?” he said, fairly. “I know that they didn’t mean to hurt him. They don’t know; understand. If they care about him as much as I know they do, though, they’ll take the time to educate themselves so that they don’t say things like that to him or anyone else.”

“I’m glad that you and my brother found your way back to each other,” she said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “From everything that Lottie’s told me and from what I’ve seen today, you two seem really perfect for each other.”

“I like to think so,” he said, cheekily. “Thank you,” he then added, more sincerely. “That means a lot. Maybe you’ll come visit us soon in London if your mum’s OK with it? I meant what I said about connecting you and Gemma.”

“I’d like that a lot; I love London!”

“It’s impossible not to,” he laughed. “Come on, we should try to get some sleep. Doris and Ernest don’t seem like the type to let anyone sleep for long once they’re awake.”

“You’re not wrong,” she snorted.

They both walked back inside and once she put her cup in the sink and he stowed away his pack of smokes, they walked upstairs and parted to go in separate directions, waving.

As he carefully got into bed with Louis, he marveled at the smaller boy beside him. Louis looked so peaceful, so much younger when he was asleep and vulnerable like he was in that moment. He could not imagine why anyone would ever hurt him, knowingly or unknowingly.

He held Louis closer, trying to push those thoughts from his mind, and reminding himself that as long as he was around, he would do his absolute best to protect Louis from any pain.


	11. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis forge new beginnings. The Family exchanges their farewells.

When he woke up the next morning, Louis was no longer by his side. After a few moments of confusion where he was wiping the sleep from his eyes, he remembered the events from yesterday and that he was in Louis’ childhood bedroom.

Standing up, he threw a jumper on that he had packed, as well as a beanie so that he would not have to manage his unruly curls. After he washed up, he then wandered downstairs to see if he could find Louis or any of the others. He did not have to look far.

Louis was sat on the sofa with Doris and Ernest on either side. They were watching Peppa Pig on the telly and he smiled, leaning against the railing. He seldom let himself think so far into the future, but he could see a future for him and Louis that looked much like the picture in front of him. One where they would get up because the kids were too energetic for their own good, like Louis, and he would prepare breakfast for them, perhaps with one of their children by his side as his little helper because he or she liked to cook just like him.

It was a beautiful picture. He had no idea, though, if it was one that Louis wanted or thought that he would ever be able to have.

“I can feel you staring, Styles,” drawled Louis, not looking away from the telly. “Are you going to join us or stand off to the side like a creepy goof?”

Broken out of his trance, he just smiled when Louis turned to look at him when he did not receive a response.

“You OK?” Louis asked him, softly.

“Yeah,” he said, honestly. “Just enjoying the view.”

“You’re a cheeseball,” said Louis, rolling his eyes. He turned to Doris with wide, dramatic eyes. “Why do I put up with him, Doris?” he mock-whispered.

“Because you love him, Achoo!”

Louis’ eyes sparked, glancing up at him before redirecting his attention to Doris.

“Achoo?”

“That’s your …” she frowned, searching for the right word.

“My nickname?” Louis supplied, and she nodded vigorously.

“Yeah. The others all have them! There’s Dot, Fishy, Phee Phee, Day Day —”

“And I’m Eenie!” cut in Ernest. She glowered at him.

“I love my nickname,” said Louis, sincerely. “Does Harry have one?”

Doris looked at him from where he stood on the staircase contemplatively.

“Hazza,” she determined.

He and Louis exchanged a surprised look, before grinning not-so secretly at each other.

“I love it,” he said, coming over. As he approached, she outstretched her arms and he swooped her off the couch, keeping her on his hip. “Can I call you Dory?”

“Like the fish?” she asked.

“Like the fish,” he affirmed. She nodded.

“Yeah, that’s good.” He laughed, kissing the top of her head.

“There’s some danishes in the kitchen,” said Louis, eventually. “I can get you one —”

“Thanks, but stay with them,” he said, easily. “I can manage.”

Louis nodded, accepting Doris onto his lap when he handed her back. He then left the trio, walking into the kitchen for a glass of juice and the aforementioned danish.

As he was fixing himself a plate, Daisy and Phoebe entered from the back patio. He glanced up, making direct eye contact with them and they froze.

“Good morning,” he said, casually when neither one of them spoke. “Sleep well?”

“Y-Yeah,” Phoebe said, finally. “You?” He nodded.

“I’ve always been an early riser,” he said, taking a sip to busy his hands. “Danish?”

“I’m sorry,” Daisy blurted out, in lieu of a proper answer. Phoebe nodded hastily.

“I am, too,” she said. “We didn’t mean to upset you or Louis. We were wrong.”

“Thank you,” he said, gently. “I accept your apology.”

“So you don’t hate us?” asked Daisy, chewing on her lip.

He motioned for them to step outside where they could talk without the background noise coming from the telly in the other room. They followed him outside, sitting at the table.

“I definitely don’t hate either one of you,” he said, carefully. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt either one of us. You just need to better inform yourself, is all, but that’s why we told you. It’s better to learn from mistakes now with family than if you said it to somebody else.”

The two of them nodded and he could tell that they had the same questions on their lips as everyone else. He nodded encouragingly.

“You were raped, too?” Phoebe asked, but it came out less a question than a statement.

He nodded, and he was surprised. He spoke about what happened to him more in the past 24 hours than he had spoken about it in the last seven years. That must be progress.

“When they put me in a hospital after I came home,” he explained, feeling slightly like a broken record.

“Does it help?” Daisy asked, timidly. He looked at her, puzzled. “I mean, does it help for you and Louis? To both have that in common?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “They were also entirely different situations, though. The only commonality is that we had power and control taken from us in an awful way. The similarities end there, and no experience or how the person lives with it is identical to another’s.”

“Are you Positive, too?” asked Phoebe, and he shook his head.

“I was fortunately unaffected in that way,” he said.

“What do you mean ‘in that way’?” she asked.

He took another sip of his juice, gathering his thoughts. He expected that he would have to field questions once he heard the others discuss last night Daisy and Phoebe apologizing to him as well. He welcomed the questions. It was just a lot to wrap his mind around on little sleep.

“I was … broken after everything happened,” he said, slowly. He focused on his glass of juice, but he knew that he had both of the girls’ attention on him. “I had just left Louis and I knew that I had to leave, but coming home was more brutal than I could have imagined. My mum didn’t know how to handle my outbursts, and all I could think of when she put me in that place was that I would be there for the rest of my life and that no one would come looking for me.”

“Then after what happened in there, I shut down. As Louis knows and I explained to both Lottie and Félicité, I became mute. Couldn’t talk to anyone; they said that it was a form of post-traumatic stress. Like what people in war experience when they return home and something triggers a memory from when they were under attack.”

“What I meant before was that although the physical implications were not as severe for me as they are for Louis, the emotional and psychological aspect took its toll.”

“But you’re better now?” said Daisy.

“Improving every day,” he said. “It’s not as difficult to talk about it, but that’s not the case with everyone. Sometimes it comes with time, and other times it doesn’t come at all.”

“We’re sorry,” they both said again in unison. He smiled.

“Can we give you a hug?” asked Phoebe. He opened his arms.

“Bring it in.” They stood up and hurried to his side, hugging him tightly. His eyes burned slightly, but not because he was upset. No, he was so happy. He felt like he found a place where he truly belonged and it was within such a beautiful family.

“Haz? Are you out — what’s going on?” asked Louis, freezing in the entryway.

“Louis,” both girls said together, hurrying toward him. He opened his arms just in time for them to barrel into him, and he steadied the three of them so that they would not topple over.

“I came to see what was taking you so long,” he said, hesitatingly. “Is everything OK?”

He nodded, smiling. Then, the girls started talking at once.

“We’re so sorry, Louis —”

“We didn’t mean to hurt you —”

“Fizzy explained to us —

“— that what we insinuated was wrong.”

“We promise we’ll think next time first —”

“We love and have missed you so much.”

“I love and missed you, too,” said Louis, his throat thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“We’re here to talk if you want,” said Phoebe. “We promise not to judge.”

“We’re good listeners, too,” added Daisy. “Dandy has said so!”

“He’s a pretty good judge of character, it seems,” Louis chuckled. “We’ll talk later, yeah? Can you check on Doris and Ernest while I speak to Harry for a moment?”

They nodded, each kissing one of his cheeks before running inside. Louis turned to look at him with a surprised expression.

“It’s a lot all at once, I know,” he laughed, and Louis did the same.

“Right,” he said, sitting down. Louis looked closer at him. “How are you?”

“Surprisingly, really good,” he said, honestly. “I love your family.”

“I’m glad,” said Louis, squeezing his hand. “The feeling is mutual.”

He leaned forward to kiss Louis without hesitation. Louis melted into the kiss, tugging gently at the curls at the base of his neck. He moaned into Louis’ mouth, and the other boy started laughing, which only caused him to do the same.

“I always forget how infectious your laugh is,” he said, breathlessly when they separated.

“Mm, yeah? Here I thought my laugh was all you spent your days thinking about.”

“Think you’re confusing that with your —”

“Young ears present!” exclaimed Lottie, walking outside with Doris and Ernest holding onto each of her hands. “I’m talking about myself, by the way, not either one of them.”

“Yeah?” snorted Louis. “Speaking of, where’s that boyfriend of yours that I still haven’t met? Think it’s time I gave him the proper older brother talk.”

“Christ, Lou, Tommy’s not like that,” Lottie groaned.

“I’d be happy to help,” he said, winking at Louis. Louis grinned wickedly and Lottie looked outraged.

“I take back everything I ever said! I’m revoking your role as my favorite older brother.”

“Oi!” shouted Louis. “ _ He’s _ your favorite older brother?”

“What can I say, Lou? I’m a gem,” he said, flipping his now too-short-to-flip hair.

“He certainly thinks so,” mocked Lottie.

He and Louis exchanged a knowing glance that did not go missed by Lottie. Her eyes widened with fear. They both got up and with a scream, she took off back into the house.

“Get back here, Charlotte Elizabeth Tomlinson!”

 

***

 

The rest of the weekend passed without event. Louis played footy with Doris and Ernest, teaching them some rules that they did not already know. He, on the other hand, was made into the doll of the Tomlinson-Deakin girls, who were painting him with all types of beauty products.

“I can’t believe you cut your hair,” Daisy moaned when he mentioned that it once came down to his breast bones. “We could have French-braided it and everything!”

“I had that done once,” he said, grinning. He pulled up a photo on his phone. “Gemma’s mate, Lou did it after I practically harassed her for weeks.”

“You looked so cute!” squealed Daisy and Phoebe, causing Lottie and Félicité to laugh.

“Heeeyy, are you trying to say that I’m no longer cute?” he pouted.

“Don’t worry, Styles, you’re a catch,” smirked Lottie. “Or so our brother thinks.”

He flushed at that, causing the others to erupt into giggles again.

“Are you going to get married?” asked Phoebe, who was on nail duty. She already gave him a manicure and pedicure, and was now painting them black.

“I hope to get married one day,” he said, evasively. The others fixed him with a look.

“Anyone in particular?” Félicité laughed, braiding what could be done with his hair. He tried not to wince too much at every tug at his scalp. It was going to be sore tomorrow.

“We haven’t spoken about it,” he said. “I’d like to one day, though, when we’re ready.”

“Can we do your makeover then?” said Daisy excitedly. She was busy contouring, as Lottie waited to apply a light coating of eyeshadow.

“We don’t even know if he’ll say yes,” he pointed out, and the others scoffed.

“He’ll say yes,” said Phoebe. “It’s been less than 48 hours and he has spent about every moment looking like you hung the moon and the stars.”

He smiled bashfully, until Daisy scolded him for almost ruining her work.

“Bloody dimples,” she muttered, and he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“Louis happens to like my dimples.”

“I’m not surprised. You could take shots out of those craters,” laughed Phoebe.

“What do you know about taking shots?” insisted Félicité. Phoebe smiled mildly.

“Done!” said Daisy, saving her sister from having to respond. “Your go, Lots.”

“I’ll just add some eyeshadow, and then a touch of mascara to accentuate your lashes.”

“Are you sure I won’t look too feminine?” he said. “I don’t mind it per se, but …”

“It’s just to make your eyes pop,” she insisted, close in his face. “Besides, loads of blokes wear makeup now that you can’t even tell.”

“Yeah?” he said, disbelievingly.

“Well, some,” she amended. “That’s why I keep Tommy around. He lets me practice on him. True bloke, he is. Doesn’t have a fragile ego.”

“I’ve said to Louis that he should wear mascara,” she added, but Harry shook his head.

“His eyelashes are so long on their own. He doesn’t need it.”

“Someone’s paid close attention,” teased Félicité.

“One of my favorite features of his,” he said, smiling. The others cooed.

“All right … all done!” Lottie said, finally. “Want to look?”

He nodded, accepting the mirror that Daisy handed to him and his eyes widened in surprise. He took in what they had done, amazed by how simple and artfully crafted it was. You could tell that he was wearing makeup if you looked closely, but otherwise, it just looked like he had a glow about him. It looked brilliant, and he said as much, causing the others to beam.

“So you’ll let us do it for the wedding?” confirmed Daisy, and he laughed.

“Sure. Let me just put a ring on his finger first.”

“Let’s go get Louis so he can see!”

Daisy and Phoebe both ran out of the room and as the others began cleaning up, and telling him how he could take it off after, he heard the twins returning with their older brother.

“What did you do to him?” he heard Louis ask. “Is he scarred? Is he going to dump me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, as Louis turned the corner.

He watched as Louis’ jaw dropped, and he felt himself shift somewhat self-consciously.

“Haz …” Louis breathed, moving toward him. “You look …”

“You like it?” he asked, suddenly nervous.

“I do,” Louis said, in awe. “Do you?”

“I do, too,” he said, and he felt the weight of his words given their previous discussion.

He felt them even more when Louis leaned up, kissing him square on the mouth. The pair did not take notice of the wolf-whistles or hear when the girls stepped out of the room to leave them alone. When they broke apart, he stared at Louis’ breathlessly.

“Bedroom,” panted Louis. “Now.”

Louis did not have to tell him twice. Practically tripping over each other in their haste, they ran out of the room, hurrying up the stairs like schoolchildren home for summer holiday.

When they reached Louis’ room, he closed the door and locked it before Louis pressed him up against it, roughly attacking his lips. He moaned as he felt Louis slot himself between his thighs, rubbing himself off against him. The sensation was enough to nearly unravel him then.

“Bed,” he said, surprising even himself when it came out like a growl. He noticed Louis’ eyes darken with anticipation and he lifted the other boy, placing him on the bed before crawling on top of him and kissing him deeply.

“Love your makeover,” said Louis, as he sucked hotly on Louis’ neck. “Makes me all hot.”

“Yeah? I’ll have to send your sisters a thank-you card,” he laughed, breathlessly.

“Word of advice, Haz. Try not to mention them while I’m hard underneath you.”

“Right.”

He continued to grind down on Louis as he worked at his neck. Before long, there was a bright purple mark there to show.

“Want to mark you all up,” he said. “Want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” breathed Louis, sending the blood rushing straight to Harry’s groin.

“Off,” he said, tugging Louis’ shirt off his head. He then made quick work of shedding his own clothes until he was entirely starkers.

“Christ, how are you going to fit,” laughed Louis.

He grinned, leaning down to whisper in Louis’ ear.

“I’m going to split you in half,” he whispered, marveling at the effect his words had. Louis’ entire body convulsed, his hairs standing up.

“Want you,” insisted Louis. “Want you now.”

“Easy, love. Want to make it good for you. Don’t want to hurt you.”

Louis leant up and kissed him, this time softer and gently. He could feel the love that Louis poured into the kiss, and reciprocated his own, hoping that Louis could tell how much he loves him even when words are not enough. When he finally rid Louis of the rest of his clothes, he pulled back to ask:

“Lube and condoms?”

“Both in the nightstand drawer,” replied Louis. He wrenched open the drawer as he continued to mark down Louis’ bare and beautiful body. Louis looked like porcelain, but he knew that Louis was stronger than porcelain. He was the crash of the waves in the evening, when the moonlight is shining down and causing the current to redirect its path. He burns like sun rays on the hottest day of the year, too bright to look at, yet impossible to look away from.

Louis was gentle and positively radiant.

Finally, he found what he was looking for and coated his fingers generously with the substance. He had a beautiful boy underneath him, already pliant and desperate to be filled, and he had waited for this moment. The beauty of the waiting suddenly made perfect sense.

He could spend his entire life waiting for Louis and it would be worth it in the end.

He gently prodded one finger in, nibbling on Louis’ ear to distract him from the burn.

“F-Fuck, Harry,” Louis moaned, softly. “I-I’m good. I’m good.”

“You sure?” he asked, and he felt Louis nod.

“Yeah, move.”

He crooked his finger and began stretching Louis, all the while looking for the one spot that alluded him. The one spot that he knew would be Louis’ undoing.

“Another,” Louis said, eventually.

“Only for you, my love,” he whispered into Louis’ ear, causing the older boy to release a guttural moan.

“Can’t say stuff like that Haz,” Louis gasped. “Drives me crazy.”

“Who said that wasn’t my plan all along?”

Louis arched as he added a second finger, the two working side-by-side with the same goal. At one point, he scissored them and he was able to stifle Louis’ scream with his mouth before Louis could draw the attention of the entire house.

“Shhh, love,” he whispered into Louis’ mouth, repeatedly prodding at the spot. “Don’t want the others to know what we’re doing.”

“Mmm,” Louis mumbled, his cock leaking profusely.

“Don’t want them to know how good you look under me,” he continued, and Louis whimpered. “Look so good when I have you on my fingers. Do you like riding my fingers, babe?”

“Y-Yes,” Louis breathed. “So much, Haz. Wish they were in me always; ride you always.”

“S-Shit,” he cursed, bruising Louis’ lips with his own. “Missed you so much, Lou. reminds me of the first time with you. Such a beautiful night.”

“Remember what you said that night?” Louis gasped, when he added a third finger.

“I do,” he smiled, fondly remembering that night that changed so much.

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “L-Louis!” he screamed as Louis hit his sensitive spot. _

_ “Haz,” Louis moaned. “Gosh, Harry!” _

_ “I love you, Louis!” he cried, not realizing at first what he had just admitted. When he did, his eyes snapped open and began to fill with tears. _

_ Damn it, he just had to ruin it. _

_ “Love, why are you crying?” asked Louis, wiping away his tears. _

_ “I — I —” He was cut off by Louis’ lips briefly on his own. When Louis pulled away, he said the words that he had waited for what felt like a lifetime to hear. _

_ “I love you too, Harry.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

“Second best moment of my life,” he said into the crook of Louis’ neck.

“Second?” He nodded.

“First is when you said it again after we found our way back to each other.”

“You always were a hopeless sap,” said Louis, but the shimmer in his eyes was unmistakable. “Blurting out ‘I love you’ during sex. Only you, love.”

“You love me.”

“I do,” gasped Louis. “Would love you more if you quit teasing and made love to me.”

“Sure you’re ready?”

“More than you could imagine.”

He pulled his fingers out of Louis, wiping them on the sheets before grabbing a condom from the pack. Pulling it on, he gasped at the friction against his swollen cock.

“So hard,” Louis said, staring at his movements.

“It’s your effect on me,” he smirked. Before Louis could fire back with a sarcastic remark, he began breaching the boy’s quivering, pink hole. He felt Louis’ entire body tremble as he pushed past the first layer of muscle, holding himself up when he finally bottomed out.

“So big,” Louis said, his pupils blown out. Louis looked like nothing he had ever seen before and he wished that he could freeze them in that exact moment. He never wanted to it to end. He never wanted to leave Louis.

Never again.

“Move,” said Louis, dragging his nails across his back. He let out a groan.

They were silent afterwards, the only sounds around them being the gentle grunts and steady pants as he continued to thrust forward, wracking Louis with silent cries of pleasure. His senses were heightened in a way that he never experienced before, unable to tear his eyes away from the cerulean-eyed creature in front of him. Even if everything else in the future went wrong — and he would do everything in his power to prevent that — he knew that the two of them would just hold on and be able to make it, no matter the obstacle.

“H-Haz,” Louis whimpered. “I’m close. I-I’m —”

“It’s OK, love,” he whispered, kissing Louis gently on his pink lips. “Baby, it’s OK. Let go.”

At his request, Louis spilled onto his stomach, his load nearly reaching his chin. The sight alone sent him into overdrive, pushing harder and faster, eventually spilling into the condom. He rode out his high, kissing a now pliant, softer-than-imaginable Louis, who had a sated look on his face. If he could spend his life making Louis look so relaxed, so care-free, he would do it without any questions.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, so that he wouldn’t collapse on Louis, and pulled out. He tied the condom and easily tossed it into the rubbish bin by Louis’ bedside, taking the smaller boy into his arms and holding onto him tightly.

“‘M all sticky,” Louis mumbled. “All sweaty.”

“You look beautiful,” he mumbled into Louis’ skin. “Look so damn beautiful.”

“You’re not going to write a song about this, are you?”

“Thinking about it,” he teased, and Louis groaned.

“Should’ve warned me. Would’ve withheld sex indefinitely.”

“You’d never make it,” he laughed. “You’d be hot for it all the time.”

“I would,” Louis agreed, easily, and he took note on how easy it was to persuade a blissed out Louis. He made a note to never take advantage of that. “I’d give it out for two pence.”

“Can’t put a price on you, love.” He kissed Louis’ lips and they fell silent not long after.

Eventually, he dragged himself out of bed to get a wet rag for Louis, and then with expressions of love on their lips and adoration in their eyes, they fell into a peaceful slumber.

 

***

 

“Morning, dears!” said Jay the following morning. “I’ve made breakfast!”

It was their final day in Doncaster and as promised, Jay had made a Full English for the house. The entire kitchen was buzzing with excitement.

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble, Mum,” said Louis, and he nodded in agreement. “We’ll be back again.”

“I know that,” she said, breezily, but he could hear the relief in her tone. “Wanted to give you boys a proper send-off. Besides, Harry here will need his strength for the car ride back.”

“I  _ told _ him —”

“That we could take the train,” he finished, kissing Louis on the lips. The girls cooed. “I stand by what I told him: I prefer him all to myself.”

“Mum, you didn’t tell me that we had maple trees,” said Lottie.

“We don’t, dear.”

“Oh. I just figured because Harry here is such a sap —” the entire room burst out laughing — “that he had to have gotten it from somewhere nearby.”

“Ha-ha,” he said, messing up Lottie’s hair, much to her chagrin.

“Harry, dear, what’s on your face?” asked Jay, moving closer to look.

He froze, glancing at Louis. He had joked when they woke up that he should wear makeup more often if it would warrant the reaction that Louis had last night, but it had not occurred to either one of them that he had neglected to remove it the night before.

That is, until he noticed the impending smirk on Louis’ face. Now he was not sure that Louis forgot. He would get revenge on him later.

“Oh, the girls gave me a makeover last night,” he said, weakly. “Must have fallen asleep and forgotten to take it off.”

Jay seemed to accept his explanation, but the entire table was buzzing.

“Got something off, all right,” mumbled Lottie, shoving some eggs into her mouth.

“Must’ve gone to bed awfully early,” snickered Daisy at the same time.

Louis flashed them both warning looks.

“Charlotte Elizabeth and Daisy Jennifer Tomlinson,” he hissed. They just smirked.

“Oh, my gosh,” he mumbled, burying his face in his arms. He felt Louis rub the small of his back under his shirt. He would be turned on if he were not so embarrassed.

“What time do you need to be on the road again?” asked Jay, taking a sip of her tea like she heard nothing of the exchange just moments ago. The twinkle in her eye said otherwise.

“Half past ten,” answered Louis, sparing him any further embarrassment. “Haz needs to go to the studio this afternoon and I have some errands to run.”

“You do?” he asked, lifting his head to look at Louis inquisitively.

“I do,” Louis affirmed.

“Best get a move on, then,” said Jay with a somewhat sad smile.

 

***

 

“Mum, we’re just going back to London, not to the moon,” said Louis with a weak laugh not much later. “We’ll be back. Promise.”

“I know,” she laughed, but he could see how much pain she felt. He knew that the weekend had not gone exactly how she had hoped. He just hoped that things would only improve from here for the entire Tomlinson-Deakin household.

They deserved some sweet happiness.

“Don’t hesitate to drop a line, you hear?” she said, hugging him tightly.

Louis nodded into her shoulder, and as he watched the pair, he could see that Louis was getting visibly upset as well. Louis rarely spoke about it, but he knew that the estrangement from his family had done a number on him.

“You too, yeah?” Jay said, sternly, now looking at him. “You may be all flower crowns and kitten ears on Snapchat, but I want to know what’s going on. In  _ both _ of your lives.”

He smiled, giving her a reassuring nod and accepting her hug. She and Louis were not that different in height and it felt reassuring to have her arms wrapped around him like Louis has done so many times.

Finally, they broke apart and he was about to say his temporary farewells to Louis’ siblings when he felt a pair of arms latch onto his right leg. He glanced down in surprise and saw Doris koala-ing his leg, and Ernest doing the same on a surprised Louis’ left leg.

“Don’t go,” whimpered Doris, and Ernest nodded vigorously.

He felt a lump swelling in the back of his throat. During his visit, he had easily grown the most attached to Doris. She was a pistol, just like her older brother, and she trailed him mostly everywhere, which he adored. He had never had a younger sibling, always being the baby of his family, and was used to being around older people.

Now, with Louis’ family, he finally got to feel what it is like to have younger siblings, and he absolutely loved the feeling.

“We have to go, Doris,” he said, sadly. “We’re not going forever, though. We’ll be back. Even when we’re not here, we can do video calls all the time.”

“All the time?” she sniffled.

“Until you get tired of seeing my face,” he said, with a wobbly grin.

She hesitated before standing up properly, and he crouched down just in time for her to run into his arms. He held her tightly, and felt his eyes burning slightly. If he could stick her in his pocket and take her everywhere, he would without a second thought.

“We have to go, Haz,” said Louis, gently.

He looked up and saw Louis with a sad, yet fond smile on his face, holding Ernest in his own arms. He nodded, picking Doris up as he stood to his feet again.

“I’ll be back in a week or so to get my stuff,” said Lottie, trying to subtly wipe her eyes.

“You know that you can stay for however long,” said Louis, and she smiled.

“Yeah, but this is where I need to be right now,” she replied, and the two shared a look that he knew only siblings could share. He had shared it with Gemma on numerous occasions.

“Bye Dais, bye Pheebs,” said Louis, handing Ernest off to Dan so that he could hug the older set of twins.

“Can we come to visit soon?” they asked together. Louis laughed.

“Yeah, ‘course. We’ll talk details soon.” He then hugged Lottie and Félicité, before giving Dan a one-arm hug since Ernest was still in the older man’s arms.

“We’ll see you lot soon. Promise,” Louis repeated, and he nodded as well, giving a slight wave. “Love you.”

“Love you, too!” chorused eight other voices.

They walked out to the car, and he began to back them out of the driveway as the family waved them off from the front porch. He watched them in the rearview until they were specs and neither he, nor Louis could see them anymore.

“Thank you,” said Louis after they were on the road for several minutes.

“For what?” he asked, glancing quickly at the boy.

“For … everything,” Louis breathed. “For convincing me to mend things with mum, for being there when I told them, for believing I could do it … for treating them like your own family.”

“They’re brilliant,” he said, honestly, touched by Louis’ words. “Each and every one of you is. I never had any doubt that you could do it, also.”

He felt Louis grab his hand and squeeze it, and he smiled goofily. He felt Louis poke his dimple, which only made him grin wider.

Yeah … things were brilliant.


	12. Unexpected Offerings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has a surprise. Harry has a new kink.

Things were weird.

Correction, Louis was behaving weirdly. He had done so for the last two weeks now. At first he thought that maybe Louis was having a hormone imbalance from the HIV medication; he knew that could happen. It became clear, though, that Louis was hiding something from him and he was growing more anxious by the second.

He tried asking Louis what was going on without being too prying. Every time that he did, though, Louis would smile, kiss him on the lips and then proceed to suck him off. OK, maybe not  _ every _ time because they definitely would be thrown out of Tesco for doing  _ that _ . It did not stop Louis from dragging him to the back of the café once, though, and pleading for him to pound him up against the door of the toilets.

He may have agreed so readily that he forgot the question. May have.

Even so, he could not shake the feeling that Louis was hiding something significant from him. Louis had not visited the doctor recently, though, and seemed in perfect health, so he had basically eliminated that option. He had even tried getting information from Louis’ sisters and Jay, but they had all shrugged him off with smiles as well.

Come to think of it … everyone was acting a bit strangely around him. Even  _ Niall _ , who had next to nothing to do with Louis. Whenever he asked if Niall wanted to watch a footie game at their flat or do a take-away night, Niall came up with some weak excuse as to why he was too busy. He had not actually stepped foot in his flat for the last two weeks.

Maybe it wasn’t everyone around him that was crazy, though. Maybe it was just  _ him _ .

He was busy dwelling on these thoughts as he was sat at Louis’ dining table, his journal open in front of him, and his pen poised on the same line that he scribbled out moments ago.

Louis was out who knows where. If he did not know Louis better, he would think that Louis was having an illicit affair. As it were, he knew Louis far too well and knew that the boy could not keep a secret for his life. That was why the past few weeks were infuriating him so greatly; he thought that he could read Louis like the back of his hand.

It was bothering him more than he cared to admit.

He was brought out of his reverie when his phone rang. Without glancing at the caller ID, he answered immediately.

“Hello?” he said, dully.

“Christ, you sound like someone reversed over your cat,” drawled Niall on the other end.

He snorted.

“What do you want, dick?”

“Is that any way to speak to your best mate?”

“Best mate, yeah? I haven’t seen you in weeks. Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re avoiding me. I perfected the art, remember?”

Niall was silent for a moment on the other end.

“I’m sorry, H. That’s what I was actually calling about, though. I figured we could have a lads night. Are you available?”

“I reckon so,” he said, though without much conviction. “I can shoot Louis a text; I haven’t seen him since this morning.”

“Right,” said Niall. “On the way here, do you think you could also run to the café?”

“The café,” he said, flatly. “I haven’t seen you in nearly three weeks and you’re asking me to pick up a snack for you?”

“I know how much you like fresh scones,” said Niall, defensively. “I ate my way through your last batch, by the way.”

He laughed, despite himself.

“Of course you did. All right, I’ll be over shortly.”

“Thanks mate.”

True to his word, Niall texted him the address as soon as he ended the call. He felt his eyebrows raise when he saw that the address was the café where Louis worked.

 

***

 

“Mr. Harry Styles?”

He looked up as he entered Bloomsbury Coffee House. There was a young man at the counter; he could not be much older than himself.

“Erm —” He was not sure if he should answer that question to the complete stranger standing in front of him. He figured Niall knew it was OK, though. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“This was left for you,” said the bloke with a smirk.

The person on the other side of the counter extended a note and he took it hesitantly.

 

_ To find the answers that you seek _

_ You must discover what’s unique _

_ In your love for music that knows no bounds; _

_ You must return to battle grounds _ .

 

He flipped the piece of paper over to see if there were other clues, but he found none.

“You’re sure this is for me?” he asked, puzzled.

“Positive,” the bloke said, nodding. “There’s also this.”

The worker knelt below the counter and when he resurfaced, handed him a light bulb.

“Right,” he said, flatly. “What’s this supposed to mean?”

“That’s all I was told. Sorry, mate.”

_ Not your mate _ is what he felt like saying, but he knew it was not the worker’s fault. He wanted to smack Niall upside the head, though.

“My mate told me that I was here to collect scones …”

“Yeah, he figured you’d be pissed. Here’s one to takeaway.”

He looked at the chocolate peace-offering of sorts, and rolled his eyes.

“Cheers,” he said, walking back outside with his scone, the piece of paper and now a random light bulb.

 

_ To find the answers that you seek _

_ You must discover what’s unique _

_ In your love for music that knows no bounds; _

_ You must return to battle grounds _ .

 

Where was Niall trying to send him?

Then it occurred to him … he had alluded to Electric Avenue in one of his recent songs. Perhaps that is where he was meant to go. It made sense, after all. The note mentioned his love for music and Eddy Grant's song was inspired by the 1981 Brixton riot … “battle grounds.”

Then there was the light bulb … the electricity. That had to be it.

 

***

 

He always loved traveling to Brixton by the underground. Whenever he left the station, his senses were immediately bombarded with the smells and sounds all around him. His favorite was perhaps the smell of fresh fruit and delightful melody of steel drums that were currently playing. He could listen to them all day if given the chance.

Not sure where he should go, he figured his best bet would be to the neon Electric Avenue sign, itself, which was not far from the station. Weaving through the crowds of people, he walked with purpose, and found himself standing below the sign in a short amount of time.

“Hiya Harry,” said a familiar voice.

“Perrie?” he said, in surprise. “What are you —?”

“No time for questions now,” she said, cheerfully. “I’ve been told to give you this.”

She handed him yet another note, which he bit down on his tongue in frustration. He glanced over the words that were written on the sheet.

 

_ As steel drum music floats through the air _

_ Your wild ride has just begun _

_ Your next encounter has a certain flair _

_ For cutting hair before the rising sun _ .

 

“What the hell is going on?” he hissed at Perrie. “What is Niall playing at?”

“You have to follow the rules, Harry,” she said, sweetly. “This is for you.”

She handed him an equality sticker that had the two gender symbols as one. He stared at it for a moment before recognition struck him.

“Trafalgar Square, then?”

Perrie just smiled, but did not warn him against it. Giving her an exaggerated look of aggravation, he gave her a hug before taking off back to the underground.

 

***

 

“Thought you’d never make it, dork,” snorted Gemma.

He crossed his arms, coming to a stop in front of her.

“Would  _ you _ care to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, without much conviction.

“Would if I could, baby bro,” she said. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“Seems like a theme lately,” he said, looking around. “Do you have a note for me, then?”

She nodded, handing it to him and he opened it.

 

_ The end is near _

_ That much is clear _

_ There’s one place left to go _

 

_ Take the leap _

_ And I promise you’ll keep _

_ A life with more than one shadow _ .

 

When he glanced up, he saw a key pro-offered in Gemma’s hand.

“Where does it lead to?”

She handed him a second note, this one with an address not too far from his flat.

“This is mental, Gem. What’s going on?” he tried again.

“Just go there, H. Promise to ring me when it’s all over?”

“Right,” he said, resignedly.

 

***

 

He arrived at the flat with a steadily increasing heart rate. He felt like he was spun all over London and had completely lost his bearings. He walked up to the front door and was just about to ring the chime when he remembered the key that rested like an anchor in his pocket.

Fishing it out, he stuck it in the lock — not before admiring the brass knocker — and twisted. He pushed the door open without further ado.

“Hello?” he said, hesitantly. He walked inside and was greeted with a relatively open, yet confined space. The walls were empty and there was no sign that anyone lived in the flat, but it was not unwelcoming. In fact, he thought with some decorative items, it could be quite homely.

“Is anyone here?” he tried again.

He closed the door behind him, walking further into the flat. When he finally turned to his left, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Despite the initial entrance of the house being devoid of anything, the living area was full of deep blue and purple lilies, scattered across the floor. Beside them were about three dozen candles, which he  _ knew _ had to be a fire hazard.

He walked forward, his legs shaking slightly, and bent down to pick up one of the lilies. He was paying so close attention to the detail of them that he almost missed the voice speak from behind him.

“I hoped that you would like them.”

He spun around, his heart pounding, and was face-to-face with Louis.

“Christ, you scared me half to death,” he said, less than eloquently, and Louis laughed.

“Sorry,” Louis said, smiling. “Please, take your time.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, baffled. “Why am I —?” He paused. “ _ You _ were the one leaving all those notes across London?”

“I certainly hope you don’t think Niall would have led you to candles and lilies,” Louis said, mock seriously. He could spot the twinkle in the older boy’s eyes, though.

“Is that why you’ve acted so distant lately?”

He saw remorse flash across Louis’ face.

“I’m sorry for that,” Louis said, and he could tell that Louis meant it. “I swear, it was with good reason. If you would allow me to, I can explain?”

He nodded, more easily than he probably should have. Louis took a deep breath.

“I sent you around because … well, I wanted you to know how much I love you. Please, let me finish,” Louis said, when he could tell that he was about to interrupt.

He closed his mouth again and nodded nervously. Louis cleared his throat.

“I wanted you to know how much I love you,” Louis repeated. “I know I say it to you … when we’re cooking — well, when  _ you’re _ cooking —, when we’re in the throws of the best sex I’ve ever had — quit smirking —, when you bring me tea every morning … but I feel like I never really show you how much I love you or even put it into words. So I tried to do it with symbols.”

“You still have everything, yeah?” Louis asked, and he nodded.

He removed the light bulb, the equality sticker and the key, placing them on the table.

“Your music is so beautiful, Haz,” Louis said, vehemently. “I know it started off as an escape … an escape from what I put you through back then, and I’d take back all the pain that I put you through in a heartbeat if I could. I’d never take back the beauty that you create with your words, though.”

“The first time that I heard Stockholm Syndrome on the radio, I think I cried for about a week,” Louis admitted, with a weak laugh. “Then, when I heard Sweet Creature, it was so different. So … full of life and light and — and  _ hope _ .”

Louis picked up the light bulb from the table.

“You bring so much light to my life, Haz. Everything you do, everything you’ve ever done has shone light on my life when I thought that there was no other way of living than stumbling through the dark with an empty heart. The first time that I knew you felt the same about me as I did about you … I wasn’t sure it would be enough. When we found our way back to each other, though … I knew we could be enough. That’s why I sent you to Electric Avenue. It was the first market street to be lit up by electricity, and you are the first and only man to light up my heart.”

He wiped his eyes, trying to quell his trembling lip with difficulty. It was taking all of his strength to stand there and not run over and kiss Louis here and now.

“The equality sticker,” said Louis, his voice cracking slightly.

“Ever since I met you, you’ve had so much  _ passion _ . It’s one of the qualities that you possess that I love the most. Whether you’re fighting me on something that you know I should do, but I’m too stubborn to admit, or you’re fighting to protect the rights of all people alongside the people that you love, I admire your strength and devotion to causes that matter. I could spend forever watching you stand up for your beliefs and I would never stop being in awe of your fierce loyalty and kindness for all people.”

Now Louis’ eyes were filling with tears, and he wiped them quickly.

“The key,” Louis said, blinking several times. “The one that I’m most nervous about, but also the one that I’m most certain of.”

“I’ve known for years that you’re the man that I want to spend the rest of my years with, Harry Edward Styles,” said Louis, full-on crying now. He was not the only one. “I know that we only officially became boyfriends a short while ago, so we’re not quite ready for the final step, but … if you’ll have me … I’d like to start building that life with you. Together. In our home.”

He felt the air leave his lungs. His eyes widened in shock and Louis laughed.

“Really? You didn’t see that coming?” He shook his head. “Glad to know that I’m still full of surprises.”

“The key,” Louis continued, “is what I hope will open the doors to our future together. I don’t just want you, Harry Styles, but I want a family. I realize that we’ve never truly spoken about it, but it became more clear to me than ever before when I saw you in Donny with my siblings, especially the youngest ones. Kids love you, Haz, — almost as much as I do — and I know that you’re the only man that I want to be the father of my future children.”

“The … the lilies …” he said, breathlessly. Louis smiled.

“Amethyst is one of your birthstones,” Louis said, softly, “and if memory serves, you once told me that blue was your favorite color.”

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “Favorite colour?” asked Louis. _

_ “Blue,” he replied. “Not sky blue though, more like an ocean blue.” Louis hummed. “You?” _

_ “Green.” He scrunched his nose. “What’s wrong with that?” _

_ “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything that looks good with the color green.” _

_ “Green eyes are lovely.” _

_ He hesitated. _

_ “Are yours —?” Louis began, and he nodded. “Mine are blue.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

“I can’t believe you remember that conversation,” he breathed. “That was … Christ, that was before I had even laid eyes on you.”

“I knew I had to see your eyes after that,” Louis admitted.

“So, you haven’t run screaming for the door,” continued Louis, laughing nervously. “Is that a ‘yes’ then?”

“You haven’t officially asked me anything,” he said, cheekily. The effect was slightly ruined, though, by the tears coursing down his cheeks.

Louis huffed out a laugh.

“Will you, Harry Styles, do me the honour of moving into this flat with me?”

In three quick strides, he stood directly in front of Louis, looking down at the blue-eyed love of his life.

“Yes,” he said, cradling Louis’ face with his own hands. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”

He kissed Louis deeply, their lips slotting together perfectly. He poured everything that he possibly possessed into the kiss, and could feel the other boy shaking beneath him as he kissed back. Finally, they broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other.

“How — when —?” he began, and Louis chuckled lowly.

“I spoke with Niall when we got back from Donny,” Louis explained. “I knew that if we moved in together, we should do it in our own place. He told me that your lease was nearly up. I think he’s ready to leave the flat as well, by the sounds of it. Just didn’t want to up and leave you. He told me about this place being for rent — one of his football mates used to live here.”

“The notes …?”

“You should have seen the state of your flat,” Louis laughed. “I knew that I couldn’t work on them at mine, so Niall let me use yours. Also sent all these flowers there.”

“That explains why he’s blown me off these last few weeks,” he said more to himself than to Louis. “How’d you and Gemma connect?”

“Niall again,” Louis said. “We met for coffee one afternoon. Proper introduced myself and told her what I wanted to do. She was unsure at first, but you know that Tomlinson charm would eventually wear her down.” Louis winked. “Your mum also helped.”

“My  _ mum _ ?”

“Convinced Gemma to go along with it. I owe a lot of it to her, really. Wouldn’t have had the nerve to follow through without her approval.”

“I can’t believe she …” he trailed off, but Louis understood.

“She just wants you to be happy, Haz,” Louis whispered. “I’m just glad that she thinks I’m the one who is able to do that for you.”

“It was always you,” he said, gently grazing his thumb over Louis’ lips. He felt the boy smile under his touch.

“Wait a minute, so did  _ everyone _ know except me?” he asked, suddenly.

“Pretty much,” Louis laughed. “Had to threaten me sisters with holding their makeup for ransom if they squealed. Nearly did, too. They were beside themselves when you started calling and asking them if something was happening.”

“Wow,” he said, simply. “Who would’ve thought? You and me … we’re going to live together!” Louis laughed as he spun him around.

“Harry Styles, you put me down!”

“It’s not my fault you’re so cuddly and small!”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

 

***

 

“Lou, love, you need to calm down,” he said, his eyes darting across the room in sequence with Louis’ own movements.

“I don’t have time to be  _ calm _ , Harry,” Louis huffed, fluffing the pillows. “We have both our families coming in less than two hours and the house is a mess!”

That is how he knew when Louis was worked up. He seldom called him “Harry.”

“It’s just my mum, sister and Robin,” he insisted, trying to slow Louis down. “Besides, you’ve already met Gemma.”

“At which point she threatened to castrate me if I ever so much as hurt you again.”

“— And you’ve spoken on the phone with my mum.”

“This is in person, Harry! It’s a big deal! It’s the first time anyone is seeing our flat.”

“They’ve seen photos,” he mumbled, and Louis scoffed. “Besides, they’re coming in increments. Mine will be here an hour before your gang shows up.”

“Shite,” Louis cursed, looking frantically around the room. “I’m forgetting something … what am I forgetting?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, kissing Louis’ earlobe. Then something caught his eye and he smirked. “Except maybe storing this away for safekeeping.” He tossed Louis a half empty bottle of lube and the latter moaned.

“That’s just what I need. Your mum to know that I made you come three times last night.”

“You know, something tells me that you’re hoping to share that with someone,” he said, lightly. “Mum might not be the  _ best _ one, though …”

Before Louis could dash off, he grabbed him by his hips and spun him around, kissing him deeply. He smiled as Louis melted into the kiss, moaning into his mouth when he stuck his hand down the front of Louis’ trousers and started pumping him. The effect was immediate.

“We don’t — we don’t have time, Haz,” Louis breathed.

“Fuck time,” he said, lowering them to the floor. He tugged down Louis’ trousers and pants in one go, freeing himself simultaneously. He whimpered as the cool air breezed against his exposed, half-hard cock. “Want you here. Want you everywhere in our home.”

“Fuck,” Louis breathed, already leaking. “H-Haz —”

“On your hands and knees, love,” he growled, nipping Louis’ lip.

Louis moaned again, this time with more pleasure than the last time, and did as he was instructed. He had to keep back his own moan as Louis’ pert arse was stuck in the air, ready for him to devour it.

Spreading Louis’ cheeks apart, he watched with admiration as his hole puckered in anticipation. He loved how willing and pliant Louis always was for him. It was almost as lovely as how trusting Louis was, allowing him to hold the older boy afterwards when they were too blissed out to move.

Without warning, he licked a fat strip over the pink flesh, causing Louis to shout out in pure ecstasy. He knew that Louis loved being eaten out almost as much as he loved fucking Louis with his tongue. The two went hand-in-hand, really.

He continued to tease Louis, driving him mad with his tongue. He would nibble and bite at the smooth, hairless area, toying with him until Louis was on the brink of madness.

“Please Hazza,” choked out Louis, sobs wracking through his body. Louis was already so overwhelmed for him and it made him harder, if that were possible. “Need you. Need your tongue in me  _ now _ .”

“All you had to do was ask nicely, baby,” he whispered, blowing air softly onto the hole. Louis gasped beneath him, rutting backwards and making him tut.

“Don’t be greedy, Lou,” he mumbled. “You know what happens when you’re greedy.”

“‘M punished,” Louis mumbled into the carpet.

In the weeks since they had officially moved into their home, they had not only grown more comfortable in the physical aspects of their relationship, but more experimentative, too. Before, everything was relatively vanilla, but they both found that they quite enjoyed role playing. Louis’ safeword was kiwi.

“You like when I punish you, don’t you?” he hissed. “When I spank you?”

“P-Please, H-Haz,” whimpered Louis. “They’re coming soon.”

A shot of electricity coursed through him, straight to his cock.

“I know, baby,” he said, wickedly, and Louis twisted his head around in shock.

“Y-You …”

“Use your words, love,” he said, almost fully slipping into his dominant role.

“You  _ want  _ to be caught,” gasped Louis, as he pinched Louis’ bum in approval. “You’re a … exhibitionist …”

“Want people to know how good I wreck you, Lou. How you scream my name when I make you come. Only my name. The last name that will ever leave your pretty, pink lips.”

“H-Harry … the windows are wide open,” Louis said, playing into it.

His eyes flashed.

“Naughty boy didn’t think to shut them, did he?” he said, pinching Louis’ bum harder. “Will have to punish you before eating you out, baby.”

“Y-Yes …”

“Yes what?” he smirked. It was new. This was  _ all _ new, but once they started …

“Yes,  _ daddy _ ,” Louis breathed. He grinned.

“Good boy,” he kissed the base of Louis’ spine. “You remember your word, yeah?”

“Yes,” Louis said, nodding.

“And you’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“Yes,” Louis repeated, wiggling his bum.

“So needy,” he teased, stroking the swell of Louis’ arse. “So …” He brought his hand down on the right cheek abruptly. “Needy for  _ me _ .”

“ _ Oh _ !” Louis exclaimed. He jolted, his cock spurting pre-come onto the new carpet.

_ They would have to clean that before the guests arrived _ , he thought to himself gleefully.

“Don’t forget to count, baby,” he said, soothingly rubbing Louis’ now slightly pink arse. “Think ten will do. For  _ now _ .”

“O-One,” breathed Louis.

He brought down his hand again, this time to Louis’ left cheek. Louis whimpered out a “two”, his face buried in the carpet.

Three … four … five … all done in quick succession. Louis was blubbering beneath him.

“Don’t come before I have my mouth on you,” he warned. “Otherwise, I’ll have to punish you … how would you feel getting it up the arse with the guests downstairs?”

“H-Harry … you  _ couldn’t _ … my sisters …”

“They’d never know,” he assured Louis. “I’d be the only one who knew how hot you get when you’re close to coming. How many times you can make me come …”

He slapped Louis again, his cheeks now both red.

“S-Six!” Louis howled, full on sobbing.

“You OK, baby?” he asked, carefully. “What color are you?”

“Green,” Louis assured him. “Keep going, need your mouth. Want to be good for you.”

“You’re always good for me, lovely boy,” he said, softly. “We’re almost done.”

Seven … eight … nine … he held the base of Louis’ cock to ensure that he did not come prematurely. Louis was blubbering nonsense half the time, his fringe sweaty on his forehead.

“One more, baby. You ready?”

“Yes, daddy.  _ Always _ ready for  _ you _ .”

He delivered the final blow, crying out in unison with Louis as he did.

“So good for me, darling,” he said, kissing all over Louis’ bright red arse. “Love your beautiful arse. Always so ready for me.”

“Thank you, daddy,” said Louis, meekly. “Can I have your tongue now?”

“You may, baby,” he assured Louis.

Finally, giving both of them what they were waiting for, he began pushing past the first ring of muscle with his tongue, causing Louis to sigh with relief. He was amazed by the reaction he could pull from his boy every time. Something so simple as his tongue could undo Louis.

He continued to push further, before pulling out again and making Louis whimper. He was not without it long before he thrust back in, though, making Louis scream out with pleasure.

“R-Right there, Haz,” Louis gasped. “T-There!”

He continued thrusting his tongue in and out, paying no mind to the burn or ache of his jaw. As long as he made Louis feel good, he could make love to Louis with his tongue all day.

“‘M close, Haz,” Louis slurred. He knew that Louis’ eyes were likely glazed over now. They got like that whenever he took his time wrecking him. He loved it.

He hummed into Louis’ arse, reaching his hand around Louis’ waist to resume pumping him. Louis’ breath continued to stutter, and he could also feel himself reaching his climax.

Then, suddenly, he stopped. Louis let out a groan as he removed his mouth with a delightful slurp, squeezing the base of Louis’ cock to prevent him from coming.

He could hear the question on Louis’ lips as he flipped the boy onto his back.

“Want to see those beautiful eyes when I make you shoot your load,” he said, far too sweetly for the filthiness he just expressed.

“Whatever you want, daddy,” Louis said just as sweetly, and he kissed Louis’ lips.

He pulled open the drawer next to their sofa and fished around momentarily before pulling out a condom. Louis choked out a laugh.

“Put a packet in every room of the house, did you?”

“Of course,” he grinned. “Can’t make sausages on Saturday morning for you without preparing my own.”

“You did  _ not _ just say that,” gasped Louis, slowly drifting out of his haze. He just grinned as he pulled on the condom, coating his cock generously with lube.

“‘Fraid I did, love. You’re stuck with my bad puns now.”

“Well,” Louis sighed, “I suppose we all have our Crosses to bear.”

“Think I’ll go straight to Hell for saying I’m prepared to nail you at any opportunity?” he asked, lining himself up with Louis’ hole.

“I’m willing to —  _ ah _ !” Louis exclaimed as he pushed in roughly. “—  _ Risk it _ .”

The only noise between them after that were the pants of Louis, desperately trying to hold off the inevitable, and his own grunts, overwhelmed by Louis’ tight heat.

“So beautiful, Lou,” he said between kisses. “Can’t believe how lucky I am to be with you. To love you. Will love you forever.”

“Forever?” Louis said, smiling shyly.

“Yes, of course. Always.”

His words had their full effect just moments later, both of them spilling within seconds of each other, his load filling his condom and Louis’ shooting just about everywhere. He would never tire of seeing Louis’ face as he was undone, would never think to close or avert his eyes.

He was still inside of Louis when he heard the doorbell ring, and he let out a loud laugh as Louis’ eyes widened.

“Shite!” Louis hissed, swatting his arm. He pulled out of him, not missing Louis’ lovely wince as the boy tried to stumble to his feat. “They’re not supposed to be here yet!”

The doorbell rang again, followed by a voice:

“Let me in, you fuckers! You could be heard from up the pathway.”

“It’s only Niall,” he laughed, getting up himself. Without shame, he walked to the door, opening it for Niall despite Louis’ weak protests.

“Christ, Harry,” laughed Perrie, averting her eyes. Niall just rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to come in or am I going to need to send apology fruit baskets to our neighbors?” he asked, drily.

“We just came to drop off the tea you claimed you needed so desperately for tonight and didn’t have time to ‘get yourself,’” said Perrie, side-stepping him. “Hi Louis.”

“Yeah, hey,” Louis grunted, a throw-pillow acting as a cover-up for him as he tried to clean up their earlier mess.

“When they say that all married couples Christen their homes …” Niall trailed off.

“Not married,” he pointed out, and Niall shrugged.

“Close enough.”

He caught Louis eye, sending him a wink. Louis just sighed exasperatedly, but smiled.

“S’pose so,” Louis affirmed, a definitive sparkle in his eye.

 

***

 

Niall and Perrie left as quickly as they arrived, and he and Louis spent the remaining time before his family arrived cleaning up the mess that they had made and taking lightening fast showers. Louis had absolutely refused to share the shower — citing that he would try to resume the earlier “funny business” — but he counted it a victory that Louis’ eyes looked regretful as he pushed him out of the bathroom to tend to the h'orderves.

In what felt like no time at all, their doorbell was ringing again, and he was having to make sure that Louis did not wring his own neck out of pure fear.

“It’ll be perfectly fine, love,” he whispered, kissing Louis’ cheek as they made their way toward the door. “They’ll grow to love you almost as much as I do.”

“‘M just nervous, I suppose,” Louis muttered. “What with all of mine coming, too … what do I say? How do I meet the woman whose son I took away from her for two years?”

His lips settled into a slight frown.

“You meet her as the boyfriend of the man that chose to be with you,” he replied after a brief moment of silence. “Ready?”

Louis nodded, chewing on his lip, stood slightly behind him. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Short stuff!” was Gemma’s immediate reaction, lightening the tense atmosphere.

“I’m taller than you,” he pouted, accepting her hug. “Have been for years now.”

“I can still win in a fight, you know,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she glanced at him.

“Whatever gets you through the day.”

She snorted, moving in past him and greeting Louis.

“Hey Louis,” she said, easily. Louis smiled.

“Hi Gemma,” he said, and it was clear that he was unsure of how to greet her. To his relief, Gemma pulled Louis into a hug.

“I’m glad that he said yes,” Gemma said lowly, thinking that he could not hear her.

“Me too,” admitted Louis. “For what it’s worth, I know that you could beat him in a fight. He is fast, though, so if you’d like, I could show you later where I keep the scissors.”

“Heeeyy,” he said, as Gemma let out a cackle.

“Aren’t you going to greet your other guests?” quipped Robin, standing beside his mother in the doorway. “Some host, you are.”

“Come on in,” he laughed, pulling Robin in for a hug.

He had known Robin for years now and loved him as though he were his father by blood. He was absolutely wonderful to Gemma and his mum, and he could not have asked for a better bloke to become a part of their little family.

“Good to see you, lad,” said Robin, gruffly. He laughed as the older man ruffled his hair like he had done when he was a young boy. “Nice place you got here,” he added to Louis.

“All Harry’s taste, I’m afraid,” Louis teased. “If it were up to me, we’d have a lot more futons around the flat.”

“A man after my own heart,” said Robin dramatically. Both Louis and Gemma laughed.

“Hi mum,” he said, redirecting his attention to his mother, who was still in the doorway.

“Hi, love,” she replied with a slight smile.

He pulled her in for a hug. He knew that she was as nervous about today — if not somehow more — than Louis was about it. They had spoken several times on the phone, which he had not mentioned to Louis, and she assured him that she was OK with meeting Louis properly. She had spoken to him the one time like Louis had told him, and she knew that he was not the same person who took him from her all those years ago. He knew, though, that she was worried that she would not be able to differentiate him from those long-ago circumstances.

"You OK?" he asked, directly into her ear. He felt her nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. He detected a slight shake to her voice. "Introduce us?"

He nodded, turning to face Louis, who was now the only one standing beside them. Gemma and Robin must have worked their way further into the flat to give them some space.

"Mum, this is my boyfriend Louis," he said. "Louis, this is my mum, Anne Twist."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Twist," said Louis, extending a hand for her to shake.

The tone was one that he did not like on Louis because it was stiff and unnatural, but he knew that Louis wanted to put his best foot forward, as he was working against history. His mum glanced at his hand for only a fraction of a second longer than normal before shaking it as well.

"Likewise, Louis," she replied. Her tone was also professional, lacking its usual warmth. It was not unkind, though. "Your home is lovely."

"Thank you," he said, bowing his head. "May I take your coat? Offer you a drink?"

Not Louis. Not Louis. Of course, politeness was Louis, but this … was not  _ Louis _ .

"Tea would be lovely," she said, offering Louis her coat, and he coughed. "You all right, dear?" she asked, turning to him.

"Fine," he said, his upper lip twitching. He caught Louis' warning look as the other boy retreated to the kitchen. Leave it to Louis to know what came to his mind when she said "tea."

"Behave yourself," hissed Louis when he followed him into the kitchen.

"Yes, darling," he drawled, wrapping his arms around Louis. "Promise for a promise?"

"What's that?"

"Be yourself," he said, earnestly. "Politeness is good and well, but a stick up the arse won't allow her to see the real you."

"The real me," Louis muttered. "Mrs. Twist, how do you like your tea?"

"Just milk, please."

"You just need to give her some time," he continued. "She's as nervous as you are."

" _ Christ _ , why would you tell me that?" Louis exclaimed. "Now I'm twice as nervous!"

"That's possible?"

"Sod off." He followed Louis back into the seating area. "Here you go ma'am."

"Thank you, Louis," his mum said, blowing on the cup gently.

"Can I get anyone else a drink? We have —"

"Louis, we're OK," said Gemma, smiling. "Go ahead and sit down."

"So, Gemma mentioned that you work in a couple of different cafés around London," said Robin, breaking the silence. "Must meet some pretty interesting people."

"You could say that," said Louis, smiling slightly. "This bloke — had to be in his sixties at least — came into the shop one day with his missus, the pair of them smoking a joint. Had to explain to them that they couldn't smoke in the café and that no, putting it out in his coffee wasn't allowed either."

"Can't imagine he liked that," laughed Gemma.

"No, he didn't," Louis grinned. "Same happened at a pub near Chinatown that I've picked up a few shifts at. Try telling a group of lads that they've had one too many and are cut off. One took a swing."

"You never told me that," he said, suddenly. Louis smiled.

"Why? So you could come down and end up on the front page of the tabloids? 'Raging Rockstar Wrecks Havoc' does have a sort of ring to it, I reckon."

"Don't go inflating his head with this 'rockstar' business," insisted Robin. "Sells one album and thinks that he's Mick Jagger."

"Hey!"

"From what I hear, he had the hair for it as well," added Louis, and Robin nodded.

"Try cleaning that out of the shower drain," Robin said, then smirked. "Did I say how happy I am that you two are moved in together?"

"You're not going to shed like a cat, are you?" Louis bemoaned.

"What's wrong with cats?" he asked, affronted.

"I don't get cats," Louis shook his head. "Dog man, I am."

"Good lad," said Robin, pointing to Louis. "Try telling that to these two." Robin pointed to Anne and Gemma.

"Oi, cats are low maintenance," argued Gemma. "You count your blessings you're not out walking a dog every day in rain or shine."

"We can get one of each," teased Louis. "I'm a man of compromise."

He was overwhelmed by the exchange and he would have to thank Robin profusely later. If anyone were to get Louis out of his shell, he knew that it would be Robin.

“Working a lot of shifts around the city must be tiring,” said his mum, interrupting his thoughts. Her words were the first that she had spoken since they all sat down properly.

“A bit, yeah,” replied Louis, with a slight shrug. “Keeps me on me toes, though. I’m not one for sitting around. Like to stay active.”

“Still, it must take its toll.”

“I try get a good night’s sleep where I can,” said Louis. If her line of questioning bothered him, he was not letting on. “Most of my shifts are later anyway, so I have time to catch up on sleep in the morning.”

"How's your health, Louis?" asked his mum, finally cutting to her point.

" _ Mum _ ," he said, sharply. He felt Louis squeeze his knee.

"It's OK, I don't mind talking about it. They should know; they're your family." Louis turned back to face his mum. "I'm in good health, thankfully."

"T-cell count?" she asked,

He felt jaw tighten. He could not believe that she was doing this right here. Right now. In his and Louis' home.

"1,400."

"Viral load?"

"Virtually undetectable," Louis replied, knocking on the wooden table.

"Any talk of you needing to go on the Cocktail?" Louis shook his head.

"The doctors said that I'm young and healthy enough for that not to be a concern."

"That's good," his mum said, genuinely. "You have siblings, I believe?"

"Yeah," Louis let out a breath. "Six younger ones actually. They'll be here later."

"Excuse me," he said, standing up. He felt slightly lightheaded and needed some air.

Without saying anything, he walked out of the room, through the kitchen and — no, he promised himself that he would quit smoking for Louis' benefit and his own health. He grabbed a piece of chewing gum and stepped outside to the small garden behind the flat.

How could she bombard Louis like that? She was not in her own home where her rules go. He was an adult, Louis was an adult and it was not OK for her to interrogate Louis for personal information. “His family”, be damned. Louis should not have to accept that behavior.

"It's nice out here," she said. He did not turn around. "You've always had a green thumb. I'm sure that you will make it absolutely love —"

"How could you treat him like that?" he cut her off. "As if he's numbers and statistics? He's a person, mum. He's the man that I love."

She was silent for a moment as he breathed heavily. Finally, she responded.

"He's the man that you love who will live a reality of numbers and statistics for the rest of his life," she said, simply. "It's not just his reality either. It's yours."

"You don't think I realize that?" he questioned. "You don't think I breathe an enormous sigh of relief when he tells me that his counts are within normal range? You don't think I thank everything there is that he … that he hasn’t stepped foot in the hospital since that awful week?"

"I know you do, dear."

"I love him so much, mum," his voice cracked. "I just want you to give him a chance to let him show you that you can love him, too."

"He cares for you and he doesn't back down," she said after a moment's pause. "I may not know him well enough to consider loving him yet, but I can at least respect that."

He sighed, knowing that was the most that he could expect at the moment. He glanced out at the lawn, still chewing.

"You quit smoking?" He nodded. "I'm glad."

She did not ask him why. He had a feeling that she could surmise the answer herself.

"Let's go back inside," she finally said. "By now I'm sure that Robin has given him enough blackmail on you."

He groaned, wrapping an arm around his mum as they re-entered the flat. When they re-joined the group in the den, the first words out of Louis' mouth were:

"Did you really wear an "I heart bitches" T-shirt when you were younger?”

 

***

 

The next half an hour passed uneventfully, as Robin regaled Louis with old tales of embarrassing moments of his adolescence, and he buried his face in Louis’ warm embrace to shield his flaming cheeks. Louis, in turn, held him closely and exchanged more recent embarrassing stories, which everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy.

“This isn’t fair,” he mumbled into Louis’ chest. “You’re all supposed to love me, not live to embarrass the hell out of me.”

“We tease because we love, Harold,” said Louis, kissing the top of his head. Despite himself, he smiled at the small gesture, cuddling closer to Louis. “Besides, it’s good to know that you always ran starkers around the house and it’s not anything new.”

He felt his cheeks burn as they all laughed, and perked up when he heard the doorbell.

“ _ I’ll _ get it,” he insisted, jumping up before anyone else could.

He ran to the door, thankful for the interruption, and opened it only to stumbled backwards as two small forces knocked into his legs.

“Hazza!” squealed Doris and Ernest.

“Munchkins!” he exclaimed, just as gleefully. They narrowed their eyes at him.

“We’re not munchkins!” said Ernest.

“We  _ told _ you that,” added Doris.

“Can’t help it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, if you weren’t munchkins, would I be able to do this?” Without prelude, he grabbed them each by the waist and hoisted them over his shoulders.

“Put us down, you giant!” Doris squealed, pounding her tiny fists on his back.

“Never, munchkins,” he insisted, redirecting his attention to Jay, who was standing in the doorway with an amused expression on her face.

“Hello Harry,” she said, with a laugh. He kissed her on the cheek, stepping aside so that she could enter. “I tried to hold them back as long as I could, but …”

“Nothing can stop the power of two six-year-olds,” he snorted. She nodded in agreement. “Good to see you, mate,” he said to Dan.

“You too, Harry,” said Dan with a laugh.

“Louis’ inside with my family. You can go straight inside and I’ll be there to make introductions in a moment.”

The two of them filed in, allowing the other four Tomlinson-Deakins to enter.

“Hiya Harry,” chirped Daisy and Phoebe.

“Greetings, my fair ladies,” he said, curtsying. “How are my favorite twins doing?”

“Hey!” protested Ernest.

“How are my  _ other _ favorite twins doing?” he amended.

“Great!” said Phoebe. “We’ve been begging mum to let us go to London again for ages now. We went to Oxford Street earlier!”

“Oh yeah?” he said. “Find anything good?”

They began launching into a detailed list of all that they bought today and he listened with a smile on his face. He missed Louis’ sisters even though it was not too long since they had last seen each other and they all had a Snapchat group where they posted goofy photos. Even so, it was great to spend time with them again in the flesh.

“Come on, girls, you have all night to tell Harry about every last eye product and shoe you found today,” snorted Félicité, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s head in and not leave Louis to his own devices much longer,” he said, with a smirk. “Even though he deserves it for teaming up with my step-dad to embarrass me to death.”

“Sounds like we came at the perfect time,” said Lottie with a wicked grin, and he rolled his eyes. He turned around and led the way in, each twin still hoisted on his shoulders.

“You’ve already introduced them, then,” he said to Louis, who was sat in his chair, watching their parents talking.

Louis nodded, eyeing his mother and Jay apprehensively. They were talking quietly to each other in the corner, a serious look on both of their faces. Whatever Jay said, his mother seemed to agree with her, and offered her a small smile. He cleared his throat.

“May I present the Tomlinson-Deakin children,” he said, officially. He heard Lottie scoff from behind him, but chose to ignore her.

“This is Charlotte, who thinks she’s better than me,” he began, getting a flick on the back of the head from Lottie, “Next in age is Félicité, who I’m much more fond of.” He saw her curtsy out of the corner of his eye and smirked. “Next we have Daisy and Phoebe.”

“I’m Daisy.”

“And I’m Phoebe.”

He nodded in approval, then rearranged the youngest twins so that they could face the room as a whole.

“And last, but certainly not least, we have Doris and Ernest.”

Doris waved to the room, as Ernest buried his face in the crook of his neck. He smiled.

“These are my parents, Anne and Robin Twist. And that’s my  _ darling _ sister, Gemma.”

“He thinks that he’s saying ‘darling’ ironically,” said Gemma, “but what he doesn’t know is that I implanted a chip in his head years ago so he could only say flattering things about me.”

The rest of the night progressed from there, everyone splitting into factions. The parents mostly stuck to each other, chatting about who knows what, himself and Louis occasionally jumping in when they had something to add. Lottie and Félicité struck up conversation with Gemma, and the latter seemed to hit it off brilliantly with the sisters. Meanwhile, Daisy and Phoebe largely kept Doris and Ernest entertained, with the occasional help of himself and Louis.

“Are you and Achoo going to get married now?” asked Doris conversationally.

He looked from her to Louis, who was grinning ear-to-ear as he answered one of Robin’s questions. He watched as Louis wrapped an arm around his mother’s waist, holding her tightly.

“Not yet,” he said, with a smile. “We will eventually if I have anything to say about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The section where Anne interrogates Louis is taken from a Season 2 scene in 'Queer As Folk'.


	13. Picking Fights and Seeking Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis consider going public. The tabloids strike again.

“R-Right there,” grunted Louis. “Yes, right  _ there _ !”

He thrust his hips up, repeatedly slamming into the same spot in Louis’ tight heat. His fringe was in his eyes, but he didn’t mind. All he could focus on was making Louis release before he did and right now, he was not sure that he would achieve that feat.

“F- _ Fuck _ ,” gasped Louis, leaning back against the counter. His arm swung back, sending one of their glasses crashing to the floor and shattering. “Oops.”

He laughed, nipping Louis’ collarbone.

“You’re a menace,” he breathed, feeling his gut coil in anticipation. “You know that? A fucking menace.”

“Your cock does things to me,” Louis said, attempting to shrug. “Your fault.”

He thrust forward particularly hard, eliciting a mewl from Louis. He groaned.

“You’re going to be the end of me,” he muttered, his hips growing more erratic.

“Good,” was all Louis said. He felt Louis’ hands card through his hair and he refocused his attention on one of Louis’ sensitive nipples. They were already rock hard, but he knew that Louis loved when he played with them, especially when Louis was close.

All of a sudden the doorbell rang. They both groaned.

“I-I’m close, daddy,” said Louis, coyly. He grunted.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathed against Louis’ bright pink nipple. “Come so whoever is out there knows how good I take care of you.”

“Daddy … so good to me …”

“Prove it, baby.”

The doorbell rang again.

“I’m coming,” moaned Louis, shooting spurts up his tummy. He moaned at the pretty sight. Louis’ face looked so beautiful when he came and he wished he could capture it forever.

The person at the door rang the bell more insistently.

“I-I’m — I’m  _ COMING _ !” Louis said, a slightly different inflection.

He choked out a laugh, his body shuddering as he reached his climax inside of Louis.

“I’ll see who it is, yeah?” he laughed, when the both came down from their climaxes. “I wouldn’t mind coming back to see you ready for another round.”

“What do you think I am? A fountain of youth?” snorted Louis. “I’m 28, Harold.”

“Is that a no, then?” he asked, pecking Louis on the lips. He slipped on his sweats, foregoing the pants in hopes of a repeat of the marathon they have had all day.

“Not at all,” quipped Louis. “I’m thinking the garden next.”

“You’re almost as bad as I am,” he teased, walking toward the door. Louis quirked an eyebrow. “I was going to suggest the car.”

“What’s new about that?”

“Nothing. I’ve just never done it in the backseat of a car.”

Louis let out a laugh, and he turned to open the door. He was greeted by an unimpressed Niall.

“One of these days the two of you are going to be going at it and I’m not going to be the one at the door,” Niall said, flatly.

“Please?” he said, drily. Niall rolled his eyes and side-stepped him. “Come in, then.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Niall, making his way to the den.

“Niall’s here, Lou. Take the cucumber out of your arse,” he said.

“Sod off,” Louis groaned from the kitchen, and Niall let out a laugh. “You know, Niall, you bring new meaning to the phrase, ‘Catching someone with their pants down.’”

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on being here long,” Niall said. “You two can get back to your kinky shit in a minute.”

“The moment’s over,” he said, which they all knew was a blatant lie. “What’s up, mate?”

“Right, the two of you are leaving your sex dungeon,” said Niall defiantly. “We’re going out for drinks for my mate Shawn’s birthday and then heading over to a club in Chinatown.”

He looked to Louis, who had just appeared. The other boy shrugged.

“I’m up for it,” said Louis. Niall hummed in approval.

“Yeah?” he said, surprised. Louis gave him an inquisitive look. “All right, count us in.”

“Brilliant. Thought I’d have to get down on me knees and beg.” He opened his mouth, but Niall fixed him with a look. “I  _ will _ murder your firstborn if you articulate that thought.”

He closed his mouth, instead simply grinning at Niall. The blond boy shook his head, but ruffled his hair, only making him grin wider.

“Pre-drinks tonight at 1900. I’ll text you the details.” Niall was on his way after that, and he closed the door behind the boy with the promise that they would be on time.

“You didn’t seem like you wanted to go,” said Louis, surprising him when he felt Louis’ arms around his waist.

“Just wasn’t sure if you wanted to,” he replied, easily. “I’ve only met Shawn once and you and Niall only just started … getting on, I suppose?”

“Still,” said Louis, “I don’t want you to not go to things on account of me. Especially now that we’re living together.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, confused. He turned around, and Louis’ arms dropped to his sides.

“ _ Nothing _ ,” said Louis. “I just — I can’t be the only person you spend your time around.”

“Who says you are?” Louis fixed him with a look. “ _ What _ ?”

“When’s the last time you went somewhere or planned something that didn’t involve me in some capacity. Honestly, Harry, tell me because I can’t recall when I did that either.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. He knew that Louis had a point, but he did not want to give in that easily. They could both be stubborn pricks a decent amount of the time.

“We were busy,” is what he settled for. “We both had to move all of our stuff … co-sign the lease. Not to mention deal with our lovably loud relatives. Gemma won’t stop talking about the crab cakes we had —”

“You’re making excuses.”

“I’m  _ not _ ,” he said, getting frustrated. “Why are you making this into something it’s not?”

“You know I’m right!” said Louis, his pitch rising. “Whenever you know that you’re losing a fight, you start redirecting the topic of conversation.”

“‘Losing the fight?’” he mimicked. “Didn’t realize that you were keeping score.”

Louis looked tired suddenly.

“Christ, Harry. I’m — I don’t want to do this.”

“Well, it seems like it was on your mind, so maybe you do,” he said, flatly. “I’m going to go shower. I promised Jeffrey that I’d meet him at the studio in half an hour anyway.”

“Since when? Thought you were gearing up for another round,” said Louis, his voice devoid of any emotion. He hated when he was the reason for that.

“Guess it slipped my mind,” he lied. “Hey, it doesn’t have to do with you, now, does it?”

He turned on his heel, walking up the stairs before he said anything else that would hurt Louis. He seemed to be pretty good at that.

 

***

 

He did not see Louis again before he left the flat. He showered, sitting on the cold, tile floor as the water trickled down his spine. He had felt bile rising in his throat at the way he had spoken to Louis. He knew that the other boy was right; ever since they had gotten together again, he had isolated himself from his mates, both professional and social ones.

It was second-nature for him, though. Louis was like the sun and when he was around him, Louis was all that he needed to survive. It wasn’t healthy, but it was familiar. It was …

It was exactly how things were the first time.

Despite the warm water that had engulfed him, he shivered at the thought. He prided the two of them of having a healthier relationship the second time, but was that a lie? An illusion that he was convincing himself was true so that things could carry on as they were currently?

Maybe all of the above, he was not sure.

He was sure, though, that he had hurt Louis, and a despicable part of him was grateful that he was nowhere to be found when he exited the shower. The same for when he walked downstairs, grabbing his phone, wallet and keys. As he shrugged his jacket on and left the house, all he could think of was how much of a coward he was and how Louis deserved better than that for only trying to help him see what he had ignored for months.

Niall had texted him the details for tonight as promised, and in a moment of pure cowardice on the underground, he texted those same details to Louis. He stared at his phone after he sent them, and then added:

 

_ I’ll see you there xx _ .

 

He did not expect anything in response. He was being an utter dick, and deserved any silence from Louis. He was not even sure if Louis would come to the party tonight at this point.

His phone buzzed, and he unlocked it quickly.

 

_ Thanks _ .

 

There was a dull pang in his chest. A dull pang that replaced the usual kissy-face or “cool guy” emoji that Louis was prone to ending every message with that he sent him.

A dull pang that made him that much more aware that he had royally fucked up.

 

***

 

He was pissed.

No, like inebriated pissed. Not in a pleasant way either.

The club was pulsing — somehow they ended up in a gay club, which … OK, he supposed was not that strange. He was pretty certain that Shawn was straight, but he barely knew the bloke, and they were all hammered at this point. And —

No, Shawn was  _ definitely _ chatting up some bloke. Right.

Like he said, he was pissed. The thumpa thumpa that normally did wonders for his spirit was not cutting it, either. He saw the other blokes dancing in the middle of the floor, Niall with his beer sloshing above his head. He rolled his eyes at the sight. Niall could fit in anywhere.

Then … there was Louis, who had disappeared a while ago and he could not find him. He wanted to talk when he arrived and Louis was already there, but Louis struck up conversation with one of Shawn’s mates and … that seem pointed enough. Niall kept shooting him odd looks during pre-drinks when he and Louis were sat on practically opposite ends of the table. Given the position Niall found them in earlier, it was clear that he would have questions as to what was going on with the two of them.

If he had questions, though, he kept them to himself. Likely more for Shawn’s benefit, but that was fine by him. He didn’t want to talk about it. He really didn’t. Louis was …

_ There _ .

His eyes locked on the boy with the electric blue eyes, dancing in the heart of the club on his own. Louis looked as though he belonged there. Not like him; the brooder standing by the bar, downing tequila shots like it was water. Even the bartender was eying him warily, but he paid him no mind. He just kept his eyes fixed on Louis, who was swinging his hips provocatively. Other dancers be damned. Louis was there for Louis. No one else.

Least of all, him.

Suddenly, Louis’ eyes opened from their half closed, pleasantly inebriated state to lock on his own. Louis’ movements to the beat did not falter and his arms did not lower from above his head as he danced without inhibition. Louis swiveled his hips in a way that he knew drove him mad, and he felt his cock harden, pressing against the denim of his jeans.

He did not break eye contact with Louis, but subtly brought his hand down to discreetly cup himself. He watched as Louis’ eyes followed, noticably darkening even from the distance. The way his skin glowed beneath the blue and green flashing strobes was unmistakable. Louis knew the effect that he was having on him, and the same was happening some 50 feet away.

Then … Louis wasn’t alone. Another bloke sauntered over to Louis, grinding filthily against Louis’ arse in a way that made his blood boil. He watched as Louis spun around, creating space between the two of them. He then watched as Louis began talking to the stranger, and the stranger smirked. When the bloke made to grab his arse again, but Louis pushed him back. The stranger did not like that, but he was not going to stand around and wait to see what the next move would be.

“Hey,” he said, making his way over. He wrapped an arm around Louis’ waist. “There a problem over here?”

“No problem,” the other bloke said, eyeing the arm around Louis’ waist with disdain.

“Good,” he said, simply. “Then you won’t mind my asking you to stay away from my boyfriend.” It was not phrased or intended as a question.

“Boyfriend, eh?” smirked the bloke. “Better keep this one on a leash then. Practically begging for it.”

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice dangerously low. Despite the loud music, he heard Louis sputtering from beside him.

“I did  _ not _ —” Louis began, and he tightened his hold.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “In fact, don’t come anywhere near him. You hear me?”

“Fine,” grunted the stranger. He turned around, but not before he heard him say, “Fucking whore would’ve sucked me off right here.”

He felt his blood boiling — though that may be the alcohol — and saw red … though that could be from the strobe lights. Releasing Louis’ waist, he gripped the stranger’s shoulder, spun him around and punched him directly in the nose.

The stranger fell the floor, his nose gushing blood, and he heard a scream from beside him. He paid no mind, though, as continued punching the bloke in the face.

“Don’t. Talk. About. Him. Like. That. You. Piece. Of. Shit,” he said, repeatedly laying blows down on the other bloke. He could hear vague screams from behind him, but all he could focus on was the bleeding asshole in front of him that was cowering on the floor like a piece of trash. He registered that despite never getting into a proper fight before, it felt good. It felt good to lay into this prick who did not know a damn thing about Louis or their relationship.

He swung back to deliver another blow when there were two pairs of arms around him, pulling him off of the stranger.

“Let me at him!” he screamed, his voice hurt. “Let me at that dick! He can’t talk about Louis like that!”

“Quit it, you’re creating a scene,” hissed a voice in his ear that he recognized as Niall’s. “Harry, I’m serious. People are watching. You need to get out of here before someone recognizes you and gets a photo.”

“I —” He tasted salt in his mouth and realized at several beats that they were from his own tears. “He —”

“I know,” said Niall. “Come on.”

“‘M fine,” he said, shrugging Niall off. He turned, and saw Louis standing there petrified.

He had never seen Louis looking quite like he did in that moment. He had seen Louis angry, he had seen Louis frightened and he had seen Louis broken, seemingly beyond repair. He had never seen Louis looking so lost and terrified, though. Least of all … toward  _ him _ .

“Lou …” he said, reaching forward for him. Louis made no move to reach out for him.

“Louis, you two need to get out of here,  _ now _ ,” insisted Niall, glancing around them. “Before someone calls security and you have a bigger problem to handle.”

That seemed to register with Louis, who led the way outside of the club. He followed Louis, telling Niall to stay with the others. There was no reason why he should leave, too.

Summoning a taxi, the pair of them were silent the entire ride home. He wanted to say something, anything, but he had no idea what he could say to make what happened in there better. He had completely …

He glanced down at his hand and grimaced. It was bloodied, all cut up and swollen. It would be a sight in the morning.

They finally pulled up to the flat, Louis practically throwing notes at the driver, and both of them got out of the car. He watched as Louis unlocked the door, turning on the lights as they walked further inside. He sat down on the couch in a stupor, staring at the wall across the way.

He jolted in alarm when he felt Louis grab his hand. He looked at him in surprise and saw a wet cloth in Louis’ hand. Louis held it poised to use on his hand, waiting for his approval. It broke his heart to see that Louis would not make eye contact with him, so he extended his hand forward for him to see that he was willing.

He let out a weak whimper, cursing at himself for being such an idiot. Why did he hit that guy. Christ, he was barely conscious when Niall pulled him off. What if he hurt him? What if the bloke pressed charges? The terrifying thought that he tried to ignore was how much he had enjoyed putting the asshole in his place.

The now bloodied cloth was replaced moments later with an ice pack, wrapped in a towel. The contrast of the cold pack and the warmth of Louis’ other hand holding his sent waves through him, made him yearn more deeply for Louis’ touch. To feel Louis’ love.

To know if Louis still loved him despite acting like an idiot all day today.

“I do,” said Louis, and he was unaware that he had said that out loud. “You didn’t. I can just tell what you’re thinking.”

He was not sure if he vocalized that last part either or if Louis was that in sync with him.

“‘M sorry,” he said, slurring his words slightly. “‘M so sorry, Lou.”

“For what?”

Even in his slightly inebriated state, he knew that Louis was looking to clarify the part that he was sorry for.

“All of it,” he said. “”M sorry for hurting you when all you were doing earlier was trying to help me see … help me see that I isolated myself from my mates. ‘M sorry that I took so long to come over to you tonight … that I let you dance on your own as if you had come on your own.”

“I did.”

“What?”

“I did come on my own,” said Louis, standing up and walking toward the kitchen. The space that he had previously filled felt colder now.

“I shouldn’t have treated you that way, I know,” he said, desperately. “I don’t —”

“Don’t say you don’t know why you acted that way, Harry,” said Louis, his voice even, but his tone cool. “I’m not looking for half-arsed apologies by some drunk idiot who thinks he’s being noble by picking fights with strangers.”

“Picking — he  _ insulted _ you, Louis!”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“You shouldn’t be called  _ anything _ . No one should.” Louis just shrugged. “Damn it, Louis, why don’t you care about what he said?”

“Maybe I’m over it,” Louis shrugged, sitting down on the barstool. Too much space between them. “Maybe I don’t care what he thinks. Maybe I was giving off those vibes.”

“Like hell,” he hissed, hoisting himself to his feet. He clenched the ice pack tightly. “I don’t care if you whipped it out and starting performing autofellatio. He had no right to put his hands all over you.”

“Like you had no right to put your hands on him,” said Louis, crossing his arms.

“What —”

“He wasn’t threatening me,” said Louis. “He didn’t make another move to put his hands on me. He was walking away, Harry. You should’ve let him. He’s not worth your … your image, your career … your own safety. Christ, what if he had a weapon on him?”

He could see that Louis was starting to panic, and dropped the ice pack, moving over to him. He put his hands gently on Louis’ shoulders, trying to calm the other boy’s breathing.

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he said.

“I-I was so scared, Harry,” stuttered Louis, seemingly not entirely hearing him. “I kept screaming … you didn’t stop. It was like … I felt like I was looking down at how I was … when I lost control and lost sense of everything around me. How I … how badly I hurt you before you left. I never realized how scary it was until I saw someone else lose it like that.”

He was silent, a pit growing in his stomach and tears threatening to spill over. He realized they must have when Louis wiped his cheeks, his own eyes sad.

That was all it took for him to break down, sobbing. He crumbled down into himself on the floor, and felt Louis come down with him, holding him tightly. He was not sure, but he thought that Louis was crying as well; he thought he felt teardrops on the back of his head.

“I-I-I-I —”

“Shhh,” Louis whispered, stroking his hair. “Slowly, Haz.”

“I didn’t regret it,” he wailed, clawing at his eyes. “All I wanted was for him to feel pain. To feel the pain and regret for calling you that name. For insinuating that he the right to put his hands all over you after you told him to stop. That you were in some way …”

“Asking for it?” finished Louis, quietly. He continued gasping for air. “Breathe, Haz. Please, breathe for me. You’re not getting enough air.”

“While you were punching him,” Louis continued, which he appreciated. He knew Louis was doing it so that he could catch his breath. “While you were punching him … I was so scared. Scared of the effect his words had on you. Scared like I said because I saw my own anger projected into you and realized … realized how scared I must have made you before.”

Louis’ words pierced through his skin, his breathing still slightly ragged as the tears continued to fall. He was silent, though, listening to the other boy.

“I felt so helpless, I didn’t know … if Niall hadn’t pulled you off —”

He felt Louis tighten his hold and he leant into the touch. He held onto it like a lifeline.

“Neither one of us should be in a relationship where we’re scared, Haz. Same goes for being entirely dependent on the other for happiness.”

“Are you —?” he began, but he could not say it. He felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

“No,” said Louis, yet he did not feel reassured. “We’ve done a lot of things, Haz, but there’s one thing we never considered. At least … I didn’t until tonight.”

“Louis …” he whimpered. “We don’t need —”

“We do,” Louis insisted. “Do you remember what I told you after I punched the wall?”

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “You have to promise me something, Harry.” _

_ He was taken aback by the use of his real name. _

_ “I already promised I’d never leave you …” _

_ “No, not that,” sighed Louis. “Promise me … please, Harry, promise me that if I ever hurt you or make you feel unsafe in any way that you’ll leave. Please, Haz. Promise me that.” _

_ “Lou …” _

_ “No!” cried Louis, tightening his grip on his hand, though not painfully. “You have to promise me, love. If I can’t keep you safe and happy, then I don’t deserve you. Please …” _

_ “OK,” he murmured. “I promise.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

Louis was silent, but he understood. He not only got it, but he knew that Louis was right.

“The same applies the other way around,” he said, softly. “It always worked both ways.”

“I don’t want to have to use that as leverage,” said Louis. “I’m not trying to use it as a threat. Goodness knows my temper can be set off easily … just because it’s in check now doesn’t mean that it will always be that way.”

“I don’t want you to be scared that I’m a loose cannon,” he said, resting his head on Louis’ lap. “So, if us going to therapy together helps us move forward … I’ll do it.”

Louis leant down, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

“Thank you, Haz.” Louis moved to stand up, offering a hand to him, which he accepted. “Let’s get some rest. We can do some research in the morning.”

“I can … erm …” His eyes trailed to the couch, and Louis let out a noise of disapproval.

“So long as we live together and love each other, I only have one rule, Haz. We don’t go to bed upset with each other or separately.” Louis extended his hand again.

Gratefully, he accepted it, following Louis up the stairs to their bedroom.

 

***

 

He woke up the following morning to his phone buzzing beside him. Blearily, he glanced at the time on the lockscreen. 8 a.m. They had slept for at best, six hours. Not nearly enough.

Both his head and his hand were throbbing from the night before, but he forgot both pains when he saw the first message on his phone. It was without words from Jeffrey; merely a link directing him to an article by  _ The Sun _ . Not good.

Filled with trepidation, he shakily pressed down on the link, waiting as the page loaded. When it did, he felt the bile rising from his gut. The photo of him … he was completely unhinged.

 

_ Lunatic Lothario Lashes Out At Unsuspecting Club Goer _

_ “I’m going to press charges!” _

 

_ We see it all the time; celebrities get a big head — their egos get inflated by the millions of admirers. They forget that they are mere mortals, capable of falling like any of us. _

 

_ Clearly, Harry Styles, 26, forgot just that. In the early morning near Chinatown, Styles found himself in a gay establishment with some of his mates. A source claimed that they were out celebrating the birthday of an acquaintance. _

 

_ The night was going perfectly normally, said the inside source, when suddenly Styles pinned another bloke onto the ground. In a fit of rage, Styles delivered blow-after-blow to the man, identified as Justin Schmidt, 30. _

 

_ “He broke my nose,” said Schmidt. “I was honestly terrified he was going to kill me.” _

 

_ This is not the first time that Styles has lost control. As we remember, he was famously part of the court case that sent his kidnapper Louis Tomlinson, 28, to prison for a reduced sentence of five years. In the years leading up to Tomlinson’s eventual confession, Styles was kept in a mental institution, classified as unstable. There, he became mute, but before arrival, was thought to be unstable and in need of monitoring. _

 

_ Since Tomlinson’s release, there are rumors that the two have rekindled their disturbing romance. A man matching Tomlinson’s description was seen by several club goers early this morning. _

 

_ “It could’ve been him,” said Schmidt. “It was too dark to see.” _

 

_ “[Styles] got up in my face and threatened that he’d find me if I came near the bloke again. We were just talking; he had his hands all over me.” _

 

_ “Look, I don’t want to make headlines. I just want to prevent this from happening to anyone else. Celebrity or not, he’s a danger to those around him. It could happen again.” _

 

_ Styles’ representatives did not respond when contacted for a comment. _

 

He hurled himself out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom and promptly empted any remaining contents of his stomach into the toilet. As he continued to heave, he felt a pair of steady arms wrap themselves around him, stroking his hair. He continued to dry heave, snot running down his face, mixed with the salt of fresh tears. How could this have happened?

“Did you see it?” he croaked, when he finally stopped emptying his stomach.

“I’ve been up for a while,” Louis admitted, rubbing his back. That was answer enough.

“I’m not going to be able to come back from this,” he whimpered, falling backwards. He laid his head on the cool linoleum. “I’m a pariah.”

“The dick  _ lied _ ,” said Louis, firmly.

“Which one?” he snorted. “The handsy one or Dick what’s-his-face, who wrote it?”

“Both. Yeah, you shouldn’t have reacted how you did, but it wasn’t unprovoked.”

“I don’t think it’ll matter much,” he said, running a hand over his face. “This is a nightmare. The label is already seeing me as a liability. It’ll push them over the edge.”

“If your team truly has your best interests at heart, they’ll find a way to spin it,” Louis insisted. “Christ, Bieber’s team makes him look like a victimized angel for worse.”

He smiled slightly despite himself. A frown immediately found its way back, though.

“They’ll find out about the therapy, too,” he said, turning to look at Louis. “They’ll rip us to shreds. All this time I wanted to protect you from their scrutiny and stupidly trying to protect you is what got us into this mess.”

“Maybe we’re going about it the wrong way,” said Louis after a moment. “It doesn’t have to be a traditional therapist.”

“How do you mean?”

“There are spiritual guidance counselors who are also registered therapists.”

“I didn’t think you believed —”

“I don’t,” said Louis, nodding. “I mean, I don’t believe in gathering to worship in the traditional sense. However … it could be good for both of us. I have my own resentments toward the spiritual aspects of the world; maybe speaking to someone who believes could help resolve those issues, even if it doesn’t make me believe any more than I do now.”

He mulled it over. It was a valid point. There would be less of a chance of the person leaking information to the tabloids, as well.

“You always think of it all,” he said, using his good hand to hold Louis’ own. “Thank you.”

“It’s a teamwork, love,” Louis said, kissing his knuckles. “Come on. Off the floor.”

“Do I have to? Seems a lot less real here?”

“‘Fraid you do,” said Louis, with a sad smile. “Lots of calls to make, I’m sure.”

He was not wrong.

 

***

 

His team was working overtime to make the headlines and lying bloke go away. Once Louis had coaxed him off the bathroom floor, he had washed up and went into the offices to talk with them and the lawyers. He told them what actually happened — every last detail, including his relationship with Louis — and how the bloke had provoked them, and it was not him picking a fight for no reason.

To their credit, they did not give him as hard a time as he suspected they would, but he had a feeling that Jeffrey was in part to thank for that. He knew that he was lucky. Even though a lot of their job coincides with handling damage control, there are plenty of teams who do not do what they are paid to do. He has seen it time and time again in the entertainment industry.

More often than you might  _ think _ .

Now, as the dust continued to settle, as it were, he was scheduled to call into BBC Radio 1 at the top of the hour to discuss the matter and put the rumors of his “unprovoked behavior” to rest. He was prepped on the questions that would be asked of him. One question in particular.

“They’re going to ask if the rumors that you and Tomlinson are together again are true and if it was him that you were with that night,” said Jeffrey, running a hand over his face.

He looked at Jeffrey warily.

“I’m not going to lie, Jeffrey.”

“Harry —”

“No. Look, they can make my life a living hell, they can feed me to the paps, they can even drop me as an artist once this album comes out if they want. It was never about the money or the publicity, anyway. I will not under any circumstances lie. There is no clause in my contract that forces me to maintain a certain image. I wasn’t a kid when I signed, you know.”

Jeffrey sighed, looking as though he was aging from the conversation.

“Have you told him, then?” Jeffrey persisted. “That his life will flip upside down when the two of you go public with your relationship? How he’ll constantly be under scrutiny?”

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “Lou?” he called. He was sitting in the den, curled up on the couch with a cuppa. He was not sure where Louis was in the flat currently. _

_ “Right here,” Louis called from the other room. He entered the den, his glasses on and with a shawl wrapped around his shoulders. “What?” Louis asked, seeing his smile. _

_ “I’ve always loved when you wear your glasses,” he said, simply. _

_ Louis tilted his head to the side, smiling slightly, but not saying anything. _

_ “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he continued, pulling at a random thread. _

_ “‘Course, love.” Louis sat down on the other edge of the sofa. _

_ “So I was in meetings again today preparing for the radio call,” he began, Louis nodding, “and they briefed me on the questions they would ask, what to say, how to say it, the usual.” _

_ “One of the questions is going to be whether or not you and I are in a relationship,” he said, not bothering to dance around the topic. Louis blinked slowly. “Also, whether or not you were there with me that night in the club.” _

_ “I get that you can’t talk about that, Haz,” he said, carefully. “It’s not something that your team wants you to advertise and it makes sense —” _

_ “Louis,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m proud of you … proud of us. I’d like to tell them that I’m happily with you … if you’re OK with that.” _

_ Louis looked like a slight breeze would knock him off where he was perched on the sofa. _

_ “You do?” _

_ He nodded. _

_ “I do,” he confirmed. “I know that it comes with kickbacks, though. People will start digging for more information on you, your family, your mates …” _

_ Your health. _

_ Neither one of them said it, but it was on their minds. Louis bit his lip. _

_ “A lot of that was already found out years ago,” he said. “Except for, you know.” _

_ “I don’t have to do it, Louis. Not now. It definitely was not the way I planned on making things public between us, and I understand if it’s too much, especially as we’re looking into a counselor. If you tell me that you’re not ready, I won’t be upset.” _

_ “Have you discussed it with your team?” He shook his head. _

_ “I’m going to talk to Jeffrey about it,” he said. “They’ve got no leverage that prevents me from going through with it, though.” _

_ “They could drop you.” _

_ “They could. I could also seek new representation once the album is complete.” _

_ “It’s a lot for me to expect of you, Haz.” _

_ “You’re not expecting anything, though,” he insisted. “I want to do it. My only concern is whether or not you think the timing is right.” _

_ Louis gnawed on his lower lip. _

_ “Your interview is when? Friday?” He nodded. “Can I sleep on it?” _

_ “Of course,” he said. He put the cuppa down on the table, opening his arms up for Louis. The latter boy fell into them, and he pressed a kiss on the top of Louis’ feathery head. “I don’t want you to feel as though I’m pressuring you at all.” _

_ “I know,” Louis whispered. “I appreciate that. I also appreciate you telling me that you wanted to do this. It does mean a lot that you want people to know about us.” _

_ “Of course,” he mumbled, his words nearly getting lost in Louis’ delicate strands of hair. “I love you. I’d scream it from the rooftops right now if I could.” _

_ “I love you, too, Haz. It was always you.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

Louis had stayed true to his word; he slept on it and the following morning, woke him up by tracing “tell them” into his burning skin. His eyes had filled with tears at the implication and Louis had let out a choked laugh about how in another 24 hours, they would be openly together. That same morning discovered them as a tangled mess of limbs, Louis riding him, as salty tears mixed with hushed “I love yous” and gentle eternal promises of “I’m yours” until their tears, like their declarations, were skin-deep.

Now, it was Friday, and he was sat at his dining table with Jeffrey, Louis in the other room giving them some privacy to speak before the interview began.

“We spoke in great length about it,” he finally said, smiling fondly at his hands at the memory. “It was a mutual decision.”

Jeffrey said no more on the matter, instead glancing at his watch. There were five minutes left until he would be on the line with the radio station.

Five minutes until he changed his and Louis’ lives from that moment forward.

Five minutes that felt like five eternities.

 

***

 

“Hello, Mr. Harry Styles!” said the radio host from BBC Radio 1.

“Hello!” he chirped, smirking as Louis rolled his eyes from the kitchen counter.

“How are you doing today, Harry?”

“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m quite well,” replied the host. “We just had Kesha in the studio discussing her latest music, so I can’t complain.”

“I’ve only heard good things about her album,” he said, honestly. “She’s an incredibly strong, powerful singer. Person, too.”

“Quite right,” said the host. “Do you consider her one of your inspirations when writing?”

“I’d say my inspirations are pretty far reaching, if I’m honest. I couldn’t necessarily pinpoint one musician who influences me more than another. I tend to find most of my influences in real life situations with people that I am around regularly.”

“Have you ever written songs about any of these people?”

He glanced over at Louis, sharing a secret smile.

“Yeah, I have.”

“Well, do tell us which one, then!”

“Sorry, mate. It’s up to the listener’s interpretation. Wouldn’t want to tell people how to interpret any of my songs.”

“You’re no fun, then,” the host teased, and he laughed goodnaturedly. “So would you say that you’re one of the lads, then? Go out for beers and use rubbish pick-up lines on the ladies?”

He could see the direction the interviewer was aiming to take now, particularly because it was fairly sloppy. Still, he would play the game.

“My pick-up lines are quite good, thank you,” he said, mock offendedly. He grinned when Louis shook his head in disbelief. “Admittedly, I haven’t had to use any in quite some time.”

“ _ Oh _ ?” the host, pressed.  _ As if _ he was surprised. “Is there a special bird, Mr. Styles?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes darting over to Louis’. He was glad to see that they were twinkling with mirth. Louis was enjoyed this as much as he was. “He’s pretty special, I’d say.”

“It’s a bloke, then?” the host asked, and he almost snorted from the transparency.

“Last I checked, yeah,” he teased, and the host let out a cackle.

“There’ve been a lot of rumors lately,” the host continued. “Those kinds, as well as nasty ones. I’m sure that you’re no stranger to that considering your status.”

He was silent, waiting for the final punch.

“Is there anything you would like to clear up for the people who are listening?”

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat away from the speaker.

“Those headlines about me losing my temper for no reason in the club were fabricated. The bloke who claims that I went after him for no reason had his hands on someone that I care about and it was  _ not _ reciprocated by that person. I handled the situation the wrong way — he had some choice words about the person that I care about and I didn’t take too kindly to them.”

“I shouldn’t have touched him,” he said, letting out an exhale, “and I do apologize for that. However, I will not apologize for trying to defend the man that I love, Louis Tomlinson.”

He could see the blues of Louis’ eyes shimmering, and he smiled at the table.

“Always a pleasure having you on the show with us, Harry,” said the host. “We’re looking forward to speaking to you again once you have new music released.”

“Likewise, thank you for having me, sir,” he said, before ending the call.

Once the call was ended, Jeffrey cleared his throat.

“Right, then,” Jeffrey said. “That seemed to have went fine. I’ll leave you …” Jeffrey trailed off, leaving the room with a nod, more to himself than anyone else.

He turned to glance at Louis, who was still frozen on the opposite side of the room.

“You OK?” he asked, nervously. “Was I …”

Louis was in front of him before he could speak further, crawling onto his lap.

“I love you,” Louis whispered softly against his lips. He felt his heartbeat speed up. “I love you so much. Thank you; I didn’t realize just how much that meant to me until just now.”

“I love you, too,” he said, supporting Louis by the boys’ slim waist. “I’m glad everyone knows it now, as well.”

 

***

 

The following days saw them receive many phone calls and messages from people that they knew, congratulating them on the phone interview. Both of their families and close friends who already knew about them were supportive, and were glad that there was no longer a secret that needed to be kept.

However, the press and his “fans” were a vastly different story.

He entered their bedroom one day, and saw Louis under a mountain of blankets. The sight made him smile, tiptoeing slightly so that he would not disturb him. However, it became clear that Louis was not sleeping when he heard a sniffle.

Concerned, he walked over to Louis’ side of the bed and knelt down.

“Lou, what’s wrong?” he asked, his heart twinging at the sight of Louis’ puffy eyes and red nose. He was clearly upset for quite a while now.

He glanced down at the phone in Louis’ hands before the other boy could answer.

 

**_@HESstanbutterfly:_ ** _ He should die after what he did to my son! _

 

**_@SweetHSCreature:_ ** _ Why they ever released him, I’ll never know. _

 

**_@BananaBoy94:_ ** _ Bet he’s just a gold digger coming back around for seconds. _

 

**_@GreenEyedCurl:_ ** _ He deserves whatever happened in prison. _

 

He saw red, grabbing the phone from Louis’ hand and shoving it in his pocket.

“N-No, Harry —” Louis said, his voice cracking.

“Louis, you shouldn’t be reading that shit,” he said, vehemently. “None of it’s true.”

“I  _ knew _ they hated me for what I did, Haz, but I thought …”

“These people don’t change, Louis. They’re entitled, they think that they get a vote in my life decisions, and they’re wrong. The tabloids only justify their twisted thought process.”

Something registered again in the back of his mind.

“That last one about prison …” Louis averted his eyes. “Louis …”

“Nothing was confirmed, but someone on the inside must have let it leak what they did to me,” Louis whispered. “It’s just talk, but … well, we both know it’s only a matter of time before they find out that I’m Positive.”

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” he said, falling backwards slightly. He buried his face in his hands. “I never wanted this when I said that I wanted to tell people about us.”

“I know that you didn’t, Haz,” said Louis. He felt Louis grab his hand from his position on the bed and give it a squeeze. “I don’t blame you.”

“I don’t know how to make it better,” he said, feebly. “We can’t go after them for libelous content; it’s true. Even if it’s not their place to spread it.”

Louis was silent, and he looked at him desperately, searching for an answer.

“Do you want to get out of the city for the week?” he suggested.

Louis shook his head.

“I think I just want to rest right now, Hazza,” Louis said, and he could not help but ache over how sad Louis’ eyes looked, even though Louis was clearly trying his best to hide them. “Might call in sick tomorrow.”

He nodded in understanding, getting to his feet and taking off his shirt and trousers.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked.

“Whenever I’ve felt upset or lost, you were always there for me,” he said, simply, getting under the covers as well. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re alone.”

He brought Louis into his arms, the boy slipping into them easily.

“Thanks Haz,” Louis breathed. Louis paused, and he waited for Louis to finish his thought. “I never feel alone when I’m with you. You make everywhere I go feel like home.”

He did not think that he had ever heard something so beautiful.

 

***

 

He was growing more and more worried. What he thought was an episodic occurrence of Louis looking at Twitter comments was becoming more frequent. Louis was attached to his phone, like it was an extension of his arm, and when he would try to take it away, Louis only grew more discontented.

What frightened him perhaps even more was that Louis seldom left their bedroom, or even the bed. He would simply lay there, scrolling through his phone. When he had announced to the world that he and Louis were proudly together, he imagined them being able to stroll on the streets hand-in-hand, going about their regular activities with no consideration of what others may think of them or their love.

He realized now that he was naive. He only looked at it from one angle, and that was not going to become the reality any time soon if things kept the way that they were. He knew that he had to do something, but he had no idea what he could do when Louis would not even leave their home for the therapy sessions that he tried to arrange with the counselor.

“Louis, I’ve rearranged on him twice already,” he begged, sitting on his side of the bed.

“Well, I’m sure he understands,” said Louis, not glancing up from his phone. He had an emotionless expression on his face. “He leads a busy life like the rest of us.”

He bit his tongue, refraining from pointing out that Louis had not left to go to work in over a week and had not showered in nearly three days.

“Louis, I’m so scared,” he admitted. He tried to reach out to grab Louis’ hand, but the other boy retracted from his touch. He was finding it so difficult to believe that the same boy had said such sweet words to him in this same bed not too long ago.

“Scared of what?” said Louis, dully.

“Of losing you,” he said, hoping that Louis could hear the vulnerability in his voice. That was seemingly his best chance of getting through to Louis. “I feel like I’m losing more and more of you every day that you sit in here and refuse to go outside; to live your life.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Harry,” Louis said, shortly.

He was floored by that. He and Louis were both stubborn, he knew that, but he had never invalidated Louis’ feelings or vice versa. He felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought.

“I’ll go get your medicine,” he said, lowly, moving to stand.

He was halfway to the door when Louis’ next words halted him in his tracks.

“Don’t bother.”

He spun around, feeling his eyes bulge out of his sockets. His sudden movement must have caught Louis’ attention because the other boy glanced up from his phone for the first time since he had entered the room.

“You want to run that by me again?” he said, his voice dangerously low.

Louis looked nonplussed by the change in his demeanor.

“Louis Tomlinson, have you taken  _ any _ of your meds in the last 24 hours?”

Louis did not respond, and he felt his hands trembling. He was not sure if he was getting that worked up or if there was an earthquake occurring beneath his feet.

Louis’ silence was capable of either effect.

“When did you last take your meds?”

He watched as Louis’ jaw was working and time creeped by, slowing aging him.

“Yesterday.”

“Which ones?” he pressed, knowing when Louis was not telling the full truth. He could see it in Louis’ eyes that he knew he was cornered as well, and that he was growing frustrated.

“HIV,” Louis said, sitting up from his previous position. He swung his legs out from under the covers and got out of bed, attempting to sidestep him. He threw his arm out before Louis could succeed in doing so, though.

“Your meds for schizophrenia?”

Louis was silent.

“Louis,  _ please _ —”

“This past Sunday.”

It was Thursday.

“Louis,” he let out a breath.

“Save it,” said Louis, pushing him aside.

“You can’t not take them!” he insisted, running after Louis.

Running; that is all that he ever seemed to do. He has run from Louis, he has run toward Louis, he and Louis tried to run together from the scrutiny and public perception and now he is running after Louis, something that he never imagined having to do. It was always mutual for them, even when he had to leave. Even when Louis pushed him away.

He was not 19-years-old any longer, though. He knew how to fight his own battles and love with a fierceness that only experience could have given him.

He was not going to let that be threatened by doubts or false perceptions.

“I can,” said Louis. He was not sure where Louis was going in the house, just that he was clearly trying to dodge him as best as he could. “I am.”

“The meds help you, Louis. Without them, you’re —”

“Unhinged? Mad? Abusive?” Louis questioned, a glint in his eye. “All of the above?”

“None of the above,” he said, frowning. “ _ Without them _ you’re fighting something that tried to push us apart forever. Something that took control of your life without your consent.”

“Stop spewing poetic bullshit, Harry. We both know that you only like when I’m on my meds because then you can delude yourself into thinking that we live the perfect life, with the perfect home and we’ll live happily ever after with a house full of children.”

“I thought you wanted that, too.”

“I want a lot of things, Harry. Just because I want them and stay awake each night  _ counting my blessings _ that I won’t croak in my sleep doesn’t mean that I’ll ever get them. It doesn’t mean that I’ll ever be able to give you what you want.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, holding onto the table for balance. “I’ve never wanted you to feel like you owe me anything, Louis. I thought we wanted these things together —”

“I suppose that’s the problem, though, isn’t it? We could both want these things until we’re blue in the face, but that won’t stop the inevitable. We could want people to stop saying shitty things, but that doesn’t mean that they will or they’ll be any less true if they say them.”

“Stop fucking making it about  _ them _ , Louis!” he cried. “It’s about  _ us _ ! It was always about us and nothing that some arsehole with internet connection says can change that.”

“You just can’t see it, can you?”

“See what?” he said, desperately. “See  _ what _ , Louis?”

“We can never want the same things when we’ve got about the biggest thing in the world separating us.” He knew that he still had a blank expression on his face, and Louis let out a frustrated grunt. “Our  _ blood _ , Harry. Our DNA is completely different.”

His blood — the same blood that Louis so harshly alluded to being vastly different from his own — ran cold. He knew that it was the lack of meds talking … he knew that Louis would not say it if he was taking all of his meds. A nagging thought continued to creep its way into his mind, though. The overwhelming thought that said just because he would not say it on his meds doesn’t mean that he still would not think or believe it. The schizophrenia may distort Louis’ reality, but these deep-rooted thoughts … they ran deeper than the mental illness. The house could quite literally be on fire, but the distortion that was created in Louis’ mind could either make it seem like he was trying to help put it out as best as he could or run for the nearest exit.

“I know that I can’t ever understand what it’s —”

“You’re right, you can’t,” said Louis, cutting him off. “So stop trying.”

“But I  _ love you _ ,” he insisted. “So much, even if you can’t see it. I know you can’t stop feeling it, Louis, no matter how much you may think it’s gone — it never will be.”

“The first time I spoke to Jay, she asked how I could ever forgive you for what you had done to me all of those years ago.”

He knew that he had Louis’ attention now.

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “Why did you return to him? After what he put you through — put your family and friends through. How could you possibly forgive that?” _

_ “I love him. Maybe it sounds ridiculous, borderline mental, but I do. I have since I was 17-years-old, and it took him coming back into my life to accept what happened nine years ago was only the beginning. I’ve gotten to know the man he is now … the man that he can be when he’s in control, and I only love him more. Love him even more for fighting every day of his life to keep his mental health in balance and for trusting that I won’t leave him even on the days when the scales tip in the wrong direction.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

He reached out and was relieved when Louis let him hold his hands.

“You never told me about that conversation,” Louis said, looking at him before quickly looking away again.

“I never thought that it was something that needed to be spoken,” he replied. “I always thought it was something that the two of us knew. I never for a second wanted you to doubt that and I’m sorry if I ever made you question it for even a fraction of a second.”

“You don’t need this, Harry,” Louis said, his voice wavering for the first time. “You could walk out that door right now and never look back. No one would blame you if you did.”

“You can’t honestly think so little of me that I would ever consider that,” he said, his hold on Louis tightening. “I won’t leave you, Louis. For better or worse; I don’t need vows or a piece of paper from City Hall to promise you that.”

When Louis did not respond, he pulled him into his chest, holding him close. He listened as Louis continued to breathe heavily, his own heart still pounding due to his raging emotions.

As they stood there, their breathing gradually returning to normal, he knew that they had a long way to go before things could return to how they were before.

 

***

 

It was 9 a.m. when he woke up. He was not sure what specifically woke him up at first.

The previous night, he and Louis had gone to bed at the same time, something that they had not done for what felt like much longer than a week. As they had dressed for bed, Louis had whispered in his ear:

“ _ Make love to me, Haz _ .”

His own hesitance was clear; they had a pretty significant argument earlier and even though it ended without fireworks, he knew that they were still in a volatile place.

“ _ Are you sure you’re up for it _ ?” he had asked, and Louis nodded.

“ _ Want to feel you close _ ,” was Louis’ response. “ _ Want to memorize the feeling of you inside of me _ .”

He still felt the phantom touch of Louis’ lips on his own; the harsh, but spectacular graze of Louis’ fingernails on his back that would leave him aching beautifully for days. He could feel the heat that always accompanied the feeling of opening Louis up and then moving inside of him; the slick warmth and smooth glide that accompanied every thrust, every moan he elicited from the boy beneath who was no longer a boy, but would always remain as such in his mind.

Most of all, he remembered, with a soft smile, the loving words Louis had spoken to him. The adoring words of “I love you so much, Haz” and “You make me strong.”

Rolling over, he expected to see Louis laying there. On mornings like these, they would awaken and he would often see Louis watching him with bleary blue eyes. Louis would make a witty comment, like about how much he despised pillow talk with a face he vaguely remembered from the night before, but then he would kiss him softly, and it felt right. It felt safe.

Now, as he turned over, he was met with empty sheets. Empty sheets, and a note on the pillow where Louis had laid mere hours ago, as he spread him open and filled him with love.

 

**I knew that I couldn’t make you walk out the door like I did nearly a decade ago.**

**I’m sorry.**

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ “You don’t need this, Harry,” Louis said, his voice wavering for the first time. “You could walk out that door right now and never look back. No one would blame you if you did.” _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

_ ~Flashback~ _

_ Sometimes the chips fall a certain way. _

_ And sometimes people don't get their forever and always. _

_ ~End Flashback~ _

 

He believed those words when he thought them nearly 10 years ago. Now, as he lay there, sun filtering through the barred windows, the outside world remained unaware of the tragedy that occurred in a single home; a home now full of empty words and broken promises.

He stopped believing those words when he saw Louis again, when they seemingly put the past behind them and moved forward in building a future together. He laid there, holding a note that was his last touch of Louis’, but that lacked the warmth of Louis. He laid in a bed that still smelled like Louis, but one that was as clearly devoid of Louis as the closet was of Louis’ clothes, and likely the rest of the home was of his belongings.

He laid there, and a piece of himself that he thought was long gone began to resurface. It was likely never fully gone, just dormant. The piece that lacked closure. The piece that lacked the emotional capacity to handle watching Louis walk into the distance, only now by choice.

Like that moment all those years ago when the world supposedly righted itself in the worst possible way, he was starting to believe again.

Only this time, it was not in him and Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE DON'T HATE ME! I promise that it is not the end. There WILL be a one-shot after this that will wrap the series up neatly. I also promise that I won't wait four years to post the next installment.


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